Until I wrap myself inside your arms (I cannot rest)
by Tarafina
Summary: Oliver Queen has returned from an island of purgatory to avenge a city in need of justice. Finding balance in his life is made all the more difficult with a book of names to strike off and a remarkable woman to re-convince he's worth her time. Fighting crime as the Hood keeps him busy, but getting Felicity to fall in love with him? Now that'll take a whole new level of dedication.
1. Prologue

**Title**: Until I wrap myself inside your arms (I cannot rest)  
**Series**: If I Was a Better Man  
**Category**: Arrow  
**Genre**: Romance/Drama/Humor  
**Ship**: Felicity/Oliver  
**Chapter Rating**: PG-13/Teen  
**Overall Rating**: NC-17/Explicit  
**Notes**: This is a sequel to a story based on an AU idea where Felicity and Oliver met before he was stranded on the island; it's pretty important that you read that too or you'll be confused.  
**Word Count**: 2,583  
**Summary**: Oliver Queen has returned from an island of purgatory to avenge a city in need of justice. Finding balance in his life is made all the more difficult with a book of names to strike off and a remarkable woman to re-convince he's worth her time. Fighting crime as the Hood keeps him busy, but getting Felicity to fall in love with him? Now that'll take a whole new level of dedication.

**_Until I wrap myself inside your arms (I cannot rest)_**

**…**

_Be careful of the curse that falls on young lovers  
Starts so soft and sweet and turns them to hunters  
A man who's pure of heart and says his prayers by night  
May still become a wolf when the autumn moon is bright_

**…**

**Prologue**.

"_Oliver Queen is _alive."

Felicity nearly choked on her chow mein as she suddenly put all of her focus on the television, grabbing up the remote and turning the volume up until it was nearly deafening. She stared wide-eyed at the news anchor from Channel 7 news as he informed her of the most unlikely thing she'd heard in a while. And she'd heard a lot of unlikely things. Like last month when Tommy told her he was officially giving up drinking. That was so unlikely it never came to fruition; in fact, to battle his hangover from the night before, he stole a bottle of her favorite red wine and camped on her couch to bemoan how much the aftereffects of too much drinking royally sucked. But _this?_ Oliver Queen, alive, after five years of being lost to the sea, presumed drowned…? It was a whole new level of unlikely.

"_The Starling City resident was found by fishermen in the North China Sea five days ago, five years after he was missing and presumed dead following the accident at sea which claimed the Queen's Gambit… Queen was a regular tabloid presence and a fixture of the Starling City club scene._"

She snorted. That was an understatement. She was fairly sure that Oliver and Tommy managed to keep the doors to many a club open purely on their celebrity and the long tabs they racked up.

"_Shortly before his disappearance he was acquitted of assault charges stemming from a highly publicized drunken altercation with paparazzi._"

She rolled her eyes. Not only because Oliver's habit of getting into trouble was widely-known and had, once upon a time, been something she found ridiculous and childish, but because she thought pointing it out in the same broadcast in which the world learned Oliver was alive was a bit of a cheap shot. Why point out the flaws of his life when he'd only just returned to it?

"_Queen is the son of Starling City billionaire _Robert _Queen, who was also on board but now officially confirmed as deceased_."

The word echoed in her ears. _Deceased_. Exactly what she'd thought Oliver was until five minutes ago.

Anything else the newscaster had to say was suddenly drowned out by the dull buzzing in her ears.

He was alive.

Oliver was alive.

Stunned, she sat on her couch, her mouth ajar, and tried to absorb the news. It felt like an out-of-body experience, like it couldn't possibly be real. Slowly, she reached for the remote and turned off the television. It wasn't that she didn't like the news, or that she didn't want to hear them say it over and over again. _He's alive he's alive he's alive_. But after five years, she had accepted that Oliver was gone. The man who infiltrated her office every lunch hour, five days a week, for nine long but admittedly amazing months, forcing her to drag her eyes off her work and eat while he tried to charm her into a date was no longer lost completely. She wasn't even sure how to process that.

And _Tommy! _God, Tommy must be freaking out! He was a train wreck when Oliver went missing and it'd taken him years before he could accept that Oliver wouldn't return. Only he did. Her lips twitched with a faint smile. Why was she even surprised? This was Oliver Queen. Hadn't Tommy told her he was the most obstinate person to ever live? Of course he wouldn't let something like being stranded at sea stop him…

She leapt from her couch and started to pace, biting the edge of her thumbnail as she considered her options.

Her first instinct was to call Tommy, or even just show up at his place. Did he know already? No, of course not. If he did, her phone would be ringing off the hook. Tommy had never been the proud owner of any ounce of patience. In fact, he was one of the most impatient people she knew. And he would've been knocking down her door, demanding to know if she knew that Oliver was back before he promptly started planning the 'Welcome Back to Civilization' party. Which meant that, given the hour… She squinted at the clock, briefly considering the fact that she needed to stop by her optometrist's office, and realized that Tommy was probably out clubbing. Yes, it was Wednesday, but, unlike her, he didn't have a job he needed to report to in the morning. Part of her wanted to begrudge him that fact, but most of her just did a full emotional eye roll at him. He was her best friend; she'd long accepted any faults or defects and might even consider them part of his charm. With that in mind, she remembered the whole point of thinking of Tommy.

Oliver.

He too would probably have been club crawling at this hour, but she imagined he was either cooped up in the hospital or resting at home. There was no way five years lost at sea hadn't taken a physical, and mental, toll. She was sure if she turned on TMZ it would give her his exact whereabouts, but she didn't bother with it. It was Tommy she wanted to find. Tommy who would be ecstatic that his best friend had been returned to him, hopefully as close to the man who left as one could be when they'd been lost for five years. But it was late and she couldn't begin to pin down which club Tommy had gone to. Somehow texting him didn't seem like the right thing to do. If she asked him to come over, he might just put it off for the next day. And if she told him it was important but she was vague about the why, he would worry. No, she would just have to wait for him to come to her…

With an inward sigh, she checked the clock again and paused. Her hands found her hips and for a moment, she seriously considered calling in sick to work and taking a day to just process. But she managed the whole IT floor, which meant that they would be lost without her, veritable chickens with their heads cut off. And that wasn't her being arrogant; she'd once taken two days sick leave and she came back to find the floor, and thus just about every other level of the building, having a serious tech meltdown. Her director promptly told her that she was never allowed to get sick again. She wasn't sure _exactly _what happened, but it took her three days to clean up. So no, a sick day was out, she would only be making herself a bigger problem to deal with in the long run.

Her second option was baking. Sometimes, she just liked to make up a few trays of cookies, her great-grandmother's recipes were always the way to go, but her flour jar was empty, and so was her chocolate chips stash. Her last option was a definite no-go. Not unless she felt like facing her current point of anxiety head on. When she was really stressed, she liked to visit the stables at Queen Manor. It was soothing just brushing the horses, talking to them, sneaking them an apple or two. It reminded her of home, of her dad, and it made everything else fade away into the background. But going to the manor meant coming face to face with the fact that the prodigal son had returned. He might not be there yet, but she could imagine the frenzy of his arrival. Raisa would be beside herself, fluttering around the house, trying to make it presentable, to distract herself from how excited she was to have him home. Thea would be bouncing all over the place, so eager to get her brother back, talking non-stop about how amazing he was before he'd disappeared. It would be chaos of the best kind, but not something she could handle right now.

Was she happy that Oliver was home? Yes. Absolutely. No question about it. She was just… _conflicted_. Because before, when he was gone, it was so easy to sweep things under the rug, to ignore the hurt and the pain and the confusion over what had happened between them. But now he was back and she wasn't sure she was allowed to be upset with him, to confront him. It was so long ago. It was history now. It was nothing in the grand scheme. So he made a promise he couldn't keep, that he _sabotaged _himself from keeping, and she let herself get swept away. It was okay. She obviously wasn't the first woman to get caught up in the appeal of Oliver Queen. Not by a long shot, really.

Taking a deep breath, she nodded, stretching her arms out around her as if she was limbering up for a run. Except she didn't do that. Running. Not even light jogging. Frankly, she was more of a Wii Fit kind of person. The only exercise she got regularly was when she put her mind into overdrive and focused on a tech problem. No, what she was doing now was trying to shake off the excess energy and, with it, all of her doubts.

Oliver was back.

He would return to his family, his friends, and his life. Where she fit into that, she wasn't entirely sure. She was Thea's leaning post, Tommy's replacement best friend, and she managed the IT floor of Queen Consolidated. Once upon a time, she considered herself a friend, and potential _something_, to Oliver. She wasn't sure if she still was. In fact, she was pretty sure that during the five years he was gone, she was just a distant memory to him, a fuzzy face among many. He had more important people to spend his time with, to catch up with, and she would be okay with that. She wouldn't be completely absent from his life because there were too many people that linked them. But she wouldn't walk into his world expecting anything.

Felicity smiled to herself, proud of her newly found reserve of strength and logic. She could do this. The past was the past and that was where it would stay.

"Okay, time to get some sleep, Smoak. You have a big day ahead of you tomorrow," she told herself, moving around her apartment as she shut off lights, turned on her security system, and double checked her locks. The only person who had a key was Tommy, and she sincerely hoped that if he happened to come by and crash at her place that he actually remembered to shut the door in his drunken haze this time. That and that he didn't trip the alarm. She could only hope.

After cleaning up her dinner mess, putting her late night take-out in the fridge, she stopped by the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth, tying her hair up in a knot atop her head. Finally, she made her way back to her bedroom and climbed under the comforter, giving a little shiver at how cold her sheets were before she turned onto her side and reached over to turn off the bedside lamp. Laying her head on the pillow, she closed her eyes and willed her brain to shut off.

She wouldn't think of him. She wouldn't get tangled up in memories or worries or hopes. She would detach. That was the best, most pain-free, route.

And Felicity was nothing if not efficient.

…

Across town, standing in Starling City General, Oliver Queen stared out over the cityscape, his brow knotted, his mouth set in a hard line.

He was home.

A pang of appreciation, of relief, hit him hard in the chest.

More than once he'd been convinced he would never get there, never see the familiar streets of his hometown again. But there he was. Much of it looked the same, though there were a number of new buildings that had sprouted up, and he imagined that, upon closer inspection, a lot more than just a few new skyscrapers had changed the city he knew. But it was still his; his home. And that was enough.

His mother stood just outside the hospital room he was staying in, talking to the doctor about the medical state he was in. He could only imagine the laundry list of injuries she was learning about, though the stories behind each of them would never be revealed. A lot wouldn't be revealed. Not to his mother or anyone. The boy who had left Starling City was not the same man who returned. He might look the same in many respects, but on the inside he was anything but.

Five years ago, he'd set sail with his father, a dream of a better future getting him on the yacht though it wasn't what propelled him forward the morning they left. He'd been spoiled, selfish, and, in many regards, _stupid_. Before he'd even left the harbor, the promises he'd made had already dwindled to nothing, and he'd picked up his old image as quickly as it had been shed. He ground his teeth as he remembered his mistakes, his excuses. But the time for regretting who he was had passed. He was going to make up for the things he'd done, the people he'd wronged, the bad choices he'd made.

He'd left Starling City promising that he was growing, he was going to be somebody to be proud of, he was going to return a worthy man. And, though he hadn't truly intended to, that was exactly what had happened. He was scarred, jaded, and empty of any innocence he'd once had in him, but his eyes were opened and he had a clear vision of what he wanted and how he would get it. At least, for most things.

He would clean up the city and right his father's wrongs. He would be a better son to his mother and a better brother to his sister. The selfish person he'd once been would no longer affect his family or those around him. He had a mission now and its sole focus was improving the city for the people who lived in it.

There was only one thing, one person, that he had no idea how to make amends to. He had no real plan, no certainty that anything would work, and, though he hoped it was true, he still couldn't be sure that he was worthy yet. But he wanted to be, he would try to be.

Oliver turned his hand over and peered down at it. A silver ring looped around his forefinger, a chain dulled with time and the trials of the island hung from it, and there, at the end, resting in his palm, was a small rectangular keychain, the label and writing of which had long worn off. A faint smile pulled at the corner of his lips and he squeezed his fingers closed, until the edges bit into his palm. He let out a sigh, taking comfort in solid form under his grip. He raised his eyes once more and cast them out over the city.

He wondered where she was, and if she was thinking about him. Because he'd spent the last five years thinking of Felicity Smoak and there was a lot he had to say.

[**To be continued**: Part One.]

* * *

**Author's Note**: _So that was fun. I'm hoping you guys are as pumped for this as I am, because I'm loving how this is playing out in my head. Just so we're all clear, there is an in-between story that's going to define a lot of the main relationships, which I'll be posting along side this. It focuses a lot on Felicity and Tommy as best friends, but it also shows how she gets close to Thea and the family during the time that Oliver is on the island. It's not necessary to read it, but it will help to flesh out some of those relationships. _

_Anyway, I hope you liked this. The following chapters will be longer than this as it just kind of shows you the frame of mind each character is in as we start the story. Please leave a review, it's always really helpful to get feedback and it's incredibly encouraging for me to keep writing. Thank you ahead of time to those who do and I hope you're all looking forward to the next part!_

**- Lee | Fina**


	2. Chapter One

**Title**: Until I wrap myself inside your arms (I cannot rest)  
**Series**: If I Was a Better Man  
**Category**: Arrow  
**Genre**: Romance/Drama/Humor  
**Ship**: Felicity/Oliver  
**Chapter Rating**: PG-13/Teen  
**Overall Rating**: NC-17/Explicit  
**Notes**: This is a sequel to a story based on an AU idea where Felicity and Oliver met before he was stranded on the island; it's pretty important that you read that too or you'll be confused.  
**Word Count**: 9,175  
**Summary**: Oliver Queen has returned from an island of purgatory to avenge a city in need of justice. Finding balance in his life is made all the more difficult with a book of names to strike off and a remarkable woman to convince he's worth her time. Fighting crime as the Hood keeps him busy, but getting Felicity to fall in love with him? Now that'll take a whole new level of dedication.

**_Until I wrap myself inside your arms (I cannot rest)_**

**I**.

"Did you see the news?" he asked from the doorway of her office.

Felicity rolled her eyes. "Hello to you too, Tommy."

"I think pleasantries can be skipped when long lost friends who seemingly drowned at sea suddenly pop back up like a too-good-to-be-true scene in an 80's movie."

Raising an eyebrow, Felicity turned to look up at him. "I saw the news. Oliver's alive and should be on his way back to the mansion as we speak." She half-smiled. "It's kind of hard to miss."

He stared at her searchingly. "That's it? That's all I get? No overwhelmed crying or jumping for joy? Not even an unnecessary but touching ramble about how worried you are that I now have my childhood best friend back and I won't have any reason to keep you around?" He tossed his hands in the air dramatically. "Have we lost our spark already? Has the shine worn off that quick?"

Standing from her chair, she sighed, circling the desk to reach him. "I know you're happy, and I'm happy for you. I'm happy for Thea and Mrs. Queen and the whole family. I'm also nervous and I can feel this weird twisting in my stomach that kind of feels like nausea but not quite." Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "There's also a really large part of me that thinks I'm dreaming and I'll wake up tomorrow to find you passed out on my couch, expecting a Bloody Mary and a warm pretzel. So yes, I'm feeling something, I just don't know what feeling to focus on. So I'm working and it's helping."

His shoulders slumped a little as he half-smiled at her. "There's the rambly you I remember."

With a snort, she shook her head. "What are you even doing here? Shouldn't you be staked out on his lawn with a Welcome Home banner and a car full of strippers?"

He grinned. "That was my next stop."

Smiling despite herself, she hiked her brows. "Don't let me stop you."

Reaching for her, he cupped her elbows and gave her a little shake. "Felicity, this is _Oliver_. I've officially been given the best news I've had in five years…" He paused, his eyes darting away. "Except for that one time when the test was negative."

A short laugh escaped her and she pointed a serious finger at him. "That was great news for me too, Merlyn. No way was I ready to be a godmother. I'm not a kid person. I'm a 'don't let your child and its sticky fingers anywhere near all my sparking wires' person…"

He smirked. "I think god-motherhood would have suited you just fine," he argued. "Who knows, maybe with your influence he wouldn't have been corrupted young."

Crossing her arms over her chest, she nodded. "You're right. I could've had a hand in raising the first female president…" She frowned. "Although, if it takes us that long to elect a woman to the White House, I may just fold up my flag and hand in my patriotism."

"Spoken like a true American!"

Felicity smiled up at him. "All right, since you're all energy this morning, why don't we see what the break room has to offer in donuts? And you can tell me all about how you plan to throw Oliver a Welcome Back bash to put all others to shame… A party I will no doubt be convinced to participate in putting together and will absolutely _not_ be a part of."

He snapped his fingers and swung an arm around her shoulders, directing her out of her office. "See? This is why we're friends. I come up with half-assed plans, you make sure I execute them properly, and—"

"You take all the credit," she finished, poking him in the chest.

"Did you honestly want the credit for last year's Spring Break party?"

"You mean the one you had over Thanksgiving weekend that ended with you being arrested for public nudity...?"

"_Alleged _public nudity," he denied.

"Tommy… It is an age of camera phones…" She looked him up and down, her brow raised. "I've seen more of you than I've ever wanted to." Stepping out from under his arm, she continued down the hall.

Grinning after her, he called out, "You're welcome."

When she rolled her eyes back at him, he laughed and hurried to catch up. "So I was thinking something classy…" he started. "But I also think a wet T-shirt contest may be necessary…"

* * *

Felicity smiled as her phone beeped yet again and turned her attention from the stack of files she was currently going through to thumb open her text messages. She shook her head, amused, as she saw one after the other from Thea.

They ranged from just before the news broke: _So I think we should have a spa weekend because my toes look sad… :( _

To directly after she found out: _Call me! CALL ME RIHGT NOWW!_

Followed by a play by play of everything that was happening since finding out Oliver was alive, of which there were so many she wasn't sure she even had time to put a dent in reading in them.

Finally, to her latest: _June wedding? Shotty maid of honor! :D _

Rolling her eyes, Felicity thumbed 2 on her speed dial and waited.

"Seriously!? It takes a _wedding _to get you to call me?"

"I've been busy, I'm sorry," she replied, helpless to the smile pulling at her mouth.

"Busy? Uh no, no way! Just go tell your boss that the _big_ boss has given you the day off and then get over here, asap. He's gonna be here any minute! I need emotional encouragement like, yesterday."

"Thea, you're fine. It's Oliver, there's nothing to worry about. He's home and he'll be ecstatic to see you."

"But what if he's changed? Or deformed? Or what if he has like, island amnesia or something!"

Felicity blinked. "What is island amnesia?"

"I don't _know_, that's why I need you here!" she whined. "To Google for me!"

She laughed, shaking her head. "As flattering as that is, I really think this is a family moment… I already talked to Tommy; I think we should let him settle in. Tommy wants to have a big Welcome Home party, so I'm sure I'll see him then."

"_What_?" The disbelief and disagreement in her voice was obvious. "No. No way. First of all, if this is a family thing, you should be here. You've been like a sister to me for five years! And you're probably going to be my sister-in-_law_, so I don't see why we should put it off any longer."

Biting her lip, she shook her head, hugging the stack of files in her arms close to her chest. "Thea, we've talked about this…"

"You moved on, you were two different people, he probably doesn't even remember you, _blah blah blah_… Trust me, okay? No way does he go through everything he did to get you only to forget you because what? Because he was marooned on an island! Pfft, what even!"

"Yes, right, because marooned on an island happens every other week…"

"Okay, fine, so it's kind of a big deal. Don't tell _him _that though. If I remember correctly, and I do, my memory is top notch—"

"We've yet to have that tested."

"—then he has a big enough head as it is, so we don't need to fill it with anymore hot air."

"On a scale of 1 to 10, how much are you freaking out right now?" she wondered.

"Like a big, fat 12."

"But it's a good 12?"

"It's a 'so good I could cry' 12."

Smile softening, she nodded. "I'm happy for you."

She groaned. "No, because you're saying that like things are going to change. And they aren't. Or, okay, they are, but they're going to get _better!_ Because Ollie's back! And everything…" She sighed happily. "Everything is _always _better with Ollie."

"Okay, you're right." Felicity nodded, pasting on a smile to help convince herself. "But I'm still not coming over."

"'City, _come on…!_" she complained.

"No," she said seriously. "This morning, it's all about you and the shortlist, all right? Tommy is already planning on having dinner with you guys, so give Oliver the morning to see you guys and adapt. We don't want to overwhelm him, right?"

She huffed out a long sigh before agreeing. "_Fine_… But I expect you at dinner tonight!" Thea's tone brooked no argument.

"Sure, okay, I'll be there."

"Okay… And I'll be texting you everything that happens, so don't think you can ignore me. I want a reply to everything, even when I give you a play-by-play of the car coming up the driveway."

She laughed under her breath. "If I can, I'll reply. I'm not going to promise because, in case you haven't noticed, the prodigal son has returned and the company is kind of freaking out about it."

"All I heard out of that is 'I will reply, work, work, blah, blah, Thea you're the best, blah.'"

"That is some… _impressive _selective hearing you have there," she praised, rolling her eyes.

Catching sight of one of her employees waving frantically for her attention, Felicity sighed. "But I really do have to go, okay? You can tell me all about your reunion on my lunch break. I'll call you."

"All right, fine, leave me to deal with this increasingly emotional reunion on my lonesome…"

"Uh-huh, I'll talk to you later, Thea."

Exchanging their goodbyes, Felicity finally hung up her phone, but before she could turn and give her full attention to her employee, she paused, and scrolled back up through Thea's many texts to stare at one in particular: _He's back! HE'S REALLY BACK. OMG!_

The words repeated in her head over and over again. It still didn't seem real, but between Thea and Tommy, she knew that was exactly what it was.

Oliver Queen was back…

And she was expected to share dinner with him that very night.

Letting out a groan, she pressed the screen of her phone to her forehead, only to take a deep breath, gather her strength, and then put on a brave face for her employee.

"All right, what've we got, Joan?" she asked, walking toward the worried woman a few feet from her.

* * *

The house seemed larger than Oliver remembered, but it'd been five years of trying to nail down the exact details in his mind and always coming up short. Old, grey stone built a castle-like mansion that he'd spent the majority of his life growing up in, and now it seemed just as distant, just as foreign as everything else he'd returned to. Still, as he gazed up at the structure while the car circled the driveway, he felt a warmth spread through his chest. Home. He was finally, truly, home.

As he climbed from the car, he intercepted the driver as he reached for the only item he brought back with him, an army munition trunk, the wood long faded. "I've got it," he assured the driver, a hand on his shoulder while the other gripped the handle.

His mother was ahead of him, already throwing the thick wood doors open to the house while he carried the trunk at his side, his eyes quickly scanning the area, looking for any details that might be different. He once knew this house like the back of his hand, but a very strong part of him demanded that he look for every exit.

"Your room is exactly as you left it," Moira told him, walking toward the table in the center of the foyer, dressed in family photos. "I never had the heart to change a thing."

"Oliver," a jovial, male voice calls out, and his head raised, searching out the source.

He put his trunk down as the man, familiar but not enough to spark a name in his mind, walked toward him.

"It's damn good to see you."

Oliver stared, brow slightly furrowed, and looked him up and down, waiting for an explanation or a memory to pop up.

His smiling mother moved to his side and seemed to read his confusion in his lack of reply.

"It's Walter," the man told him gently, reaching out to shake his hand. "Walter Steele."

Moira put an encouraging hand on Oliver's shoulder. "You remember Walter, Oliver, your father's friend from the company."

He glanced back at Walter, seeing a small smile, but his attention was quickly taken by Raisa, standing just off to the side, smiling at him. He moved toward her, smiling. "It's good to see you, Raisa."

She was nearly breathless as she looked up at him warmly, taking his hands in hers. "Welcome home, Mister Oliver," she told him, her Russian accent just as thick as ever. She cast her eyes past him toward Moira and Walter. "Mister Merlyn phoned, he wants to join you for dinner."

"Wonderful," Moira exclaimed.

A door above opened then and Oliver turned his head expectantly.

"Oliver, did you hear that?"

He couldn't be bothered to reply as he was sure he knew who was coming to greet him then.

He moved toward the stairs, his lips already turned up at the corners. And then she was there, standing tall at the top of the stairs, her hand still on the banister. She wasn't the skinny, little pre-teen he'd left behind; she'd grown into her long legs and arms. Five years had gone a long way and there was a sort of elegance and confidence about her that had been missing when he'd last seen her.

"Hey, sis," he said lightly, smiling.

She paused, just staring at him, and then she let out a breathless laugh and started down the stairs, her expression open and happy, full of excited hope. "I knew it." Her steps hurried. "I knew you were alive." She leapt into his arms, squeezing him in a tight hug. "I missed you so much."

He held her close, stroking her soft, brown hair. "You were with me the whole time."

Thea laughed under her breath and he held her a little tighter, his heart squeezing in his chest. He'd missed this; missed _her_. But he was going to make up for the time they'd lost, he assured himself. He was going to be the brother she deserved.

* * *

Felicity was exhausted. Between fixing problems around the IT floor, training her new floor manager, and fielding questions about Oliver's return, she was due for an early lunch. Or she would be, if she wasn't already well past what her usual lunch break would be. She was massaging her temples of the migraine that had set in as she walked toward her office.

"Miss. Smoak?" a voice called, causing her shoulders to slump.

But as she turned, she found it was just her assistant, Rudy. Unfortunately gaining the name Rudolph from his parents, the affable young man had taken to using a nickname as quickly as possible. He was a good assistant, if a bit of a gossip. He managed to keep all of her meetings in order and learned her coffee order his very first day. Better, he learned to read her moods, and often knew just how to react to each of them. Like now, standing just a few feet from her with a glass of ice cold water and a bottle of aspirin.

"You are a God-send, have I mentioned that?" she wondered, reaching for the water first and taking a long gulp as he poured two Aspirin out into her palm.

"You have, and I'm under strict orders by Mr. Merlyn to let him know every time you do… He takes it as a compliment for introducing us."

"This is the one and only time I won't argue with him for stroking his own ego," she muttered, before tossing back the pills and following them with another gulp of water. Giving her head a shake as she swallowed them down, she finally sighed, hopeful at the possibility of some reprieve from the pounding in her head.

"I'm taking my lunch," she informed him. "So please, for all that is holy, let me have just an hour without interruption."

"Done," he agreed nodding, only to shake his head a moment later. "_Except…_"

Her eyes narrowed. "Let me guess… _Thea_."

"She called ahead around ten and had me write her in for lunch."

"Fine. I'll call her as soon as I sit down."

"Uh, well, about that…" He shifted his feet. "See, she told me to call her as soon as I thought you were going to take your lunch, so I did, about an hour ago. I warned her you still had a few kinks to work out on some of the executive servers that I knew you wouldn't let just anybody touch, and then there was Patricia, who I know you've been struggling to train…"

"Rudy, I already have a headache. Cut to the chase."

He offered a half-smile, hoping to avoid her wrath as he told her, "She's here. She brought Thai. I'll put all other calls on hold." And with that, he fled, like the intelligent little minion he was.

Dropping her chin to her chest, Felicity turned on her heel and started toward her office, all the while lamenting the fact that a seventeen year old girl could finagle her way into a last minute lunch without her even knowing. Yes, fine, so she should be used to it by now. She'd known Thea since she was a demanding little 12-year-old who was already bending the world to her will, and that had only seemed to increase over time. Thea was aware of how much power she possessed being a Queen and while she often used it to her benefit, Felicity had to admit, she didn't use it as selfishly as she could. Thea understood there were boundaries, or, at least, she learned there was over time. She wasn't going to claim the top spot for reasons why Thea wasn't a selfish, self-destructive, trust-fund baby, but she'd like to think she had a positive effect on her life over the years.

Pushing open the thick, double doors of her office, she stepped inside to find Thea sitting behind her desk, in her chair. Well, reclining with an air of ingrained superiority might be a better way of describing it.

Felicity had an amazing view from her bay window. It was one she'd worked her ass off for over the years. And, to be honest, she owed part of that to Oliver. Not his disappearance, obviously, but his tenacious attitude had rubbed off on her and she'd taken to heart just how stubborn he'd been when she knew him. So instead of getting passed over for promotions or locked away in the dark depths of the overlooked sections in the IT Department, she put herself out there and she made herself and her knowledge known. Which was why she was the youngest operator of the IT Department, overseeing every transaction and monitoring every project.

This was why she was training Patricia, however; there was only so much one person could do and, she had to admit, she didn't always trust her employees to do the job as well as she could. So she had two options, continue overworking herself by doing their jobs for them or train somebody to make sure that the IT employees were meeting and exceeding expectations. Of course, until Patricia was where she wanted her to be, that just meant Felicity had one more thing to do in her already busy day, but she had faith that, eventually, she would spend more time overlooking rather than fixing.

Crossing her office, the click-clack of her heels echoed on the hard-wood floors. The only area wearing a rug was beneath the two armchairs placed facing her desk, a small, round table set between them. She'd spent a considerable amount of time designing her office after she'd earned it. One wall was almost completely covered with books, with track lighting on either side of the five, ceiling-tall bookshelves, hemmed in on either side with flourishing green plants. On the opposite side of the room was a small entertainment center, a stereo and remote equipped with her favorite soothing music for long days. Beside it was an overstuffed loveseat that she often found Tommy sleeping off a long night on, an end table within reach, regularly dressed in a glass of water and a bottle of Tylenol. Beside that was a large, flat-screen TV that was almost permanently on a channel dedicated to latest tech, though it was muted much of the time.

"You know, when I agreed to talk at lunch, I thought it'd be over the phone," Felicity said in greeting, plopping down on the chair adjacent to her desk. "Mostly because I didn't think you'd want to let Oliver out of your sight."

Thea shrugged, twirling the chair around so she could face her. "I spent the morning with him, but it's a little hard to get in much bonding when mom doesn't let him get three feet away…"

"She's adjusting. I'm sure after a few days, she'll loosen the leash a little and you two can have some brother-sister time."

"Yeah, I know." She leaned forward in the chair and reached for the bags of Thai food that were sitting on the corner of the desk. She started taking it all out for them, her brow furrowed.

Felicity let her brood silently, accepting the food she was offered before she leaned back in her seat and relaxed, kicking off her heels for comfort's sake. They ate in peace for a while and Felicity felt her migraine ebb with the aid of the Aspirin and the peace and quiet.

But after Thea sighed one too many times, Felicity finally took the bait. "All right, what's up?"

She raised her head from where it rested on her upturned fist. "Nothing." She shrugged, frowning down at her food. "It's just… He… He looks the same, but… _not_."

"Okay… No offense, Thea, but you're not the 12-year-old you once were either."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, that's not what I mean, okay? I mean... He—He's all… _buff_ and— And don't get me wrong, okay? Because he worked out all the time. He was pretty vain, actually. But this is different. Now he's like… He's _solid_. And it's weird. It's like, I dunno. I guess I was expecting _Castaway_, you know? Like kind of undernourished and scruffy. Not… _Tarzan_."

"Well, that's good though, isn't it? I mean, he had to survive some way. It's not like how it is here. He was stuck on an island. We don't know what he saw there or what he had to do…" A little furrow dug between her brow then, worry gnawing at her gut. But she shook it off suddenly, not wanting to worry Thea any. "I'm just saying, he might not be exactly the same, but he's still your brother. You're both going to have to adapt to things. Right?"

She nodded slowly, picking at her food. "I know. I just… I guess I was hoping when he came back, we'd just go back to normal…" She sighed, ducking her head. "Which is stupid because… how are we supposed to be normal with dad gone? Nothing's going to be like it was."

Putting her food on the table beside her, Felicity stood from her chair and moved around her desk to kneel next to Thea, taking her hand and squeezing it gently. "You remember when we talked about this a few years ago? You said you didn't care what it took, you just wanted them back..."

Thea stared at her searchingly before finally nodding.

"Okay, well, you didn't get them both. Frankly, it's a miracle you got Oliver. Five years is a long time, and I know even you were starting to lose hope." She smiled up at her lightly. "But you were right, Oliver's back, and he might not be exactly who he was when he left, but he's still Oliver. He's done a lot of growing up, just like you, and now you've got to find a way for you guys to fit together again. He's going to need your help, you know? I mean, five years is a lot to catch up on. Who knows, he might think Paris Hilton is still relevant."

She snorted. "Let's be serious, Paris was _never _relevant."

Felicity chuckled under her breath. "Come on." She stood up. "Let's finish lunch and then you can give be a play-by-play of your morning, all right?"

"Deal." She leaned back in her chair, plucking up her food once more and Felicity rounded her desk to retake her seat. "And then we can talk about what you plan on wearing to dinner tonight because you are _definitely _not getting out of it."

Wincing, Felicity frowned at her friend, grumbling under her breath as she picked up her lunch.

"You know, you have to go home eventually… and I could still come down with something. In fact…" She let out a pitiful fake cough. "I think I feel something coming on."

Scoffing, Thea raised an eyebrow. "Keep it up, Smoak, and I'll personally escort you home and dress you myself."

"You're a bit of a tyrant, you know that?"

She grinned widely. "And proud of it."

Felicity shook her head, but filled her mouth with food and admitted defeat to herself. There really was no arguing with Thea.

* * *

It was easier on the island, to ignore the blatant differences in him. Vanity had long been ingrained him, but he hadn't had time to worry about the scars and the burns when he was constantly running for his life. Now that he was home, he couldn't help but stare at them, letting his fingers run over the puckered flesh that would always be raised. Showering was a nice distraction in some ways; hot water was a luxury he hadn't had in far too long. The grit of the island had long been washed away over the last few days, but there were some things that would always stay with him. Like the stain of blood on his hands, the tally of lives he'd racked up, the losses, the wins, if he could even call them that. They would always be with him, and he wasn't sure he wanted it any other way.

Leaving the steamy confines of his bathroom, he ventured into his bedroom, a towel wrapped tight around his waist, water still dripping down his skin. He gazed out the window onto the surrounding property. A storm was brewing outside, just the beginnings of a drizzle now, but he could smell it, he knew the signs. Soon enough water would be pouring down, wind battering against the windows, making the tree branches whip around, and an eerie whistle sing to his darkest nightmares.

He pulled himself from the window and stopped at the full body mirror to gaze at the torn flesh he'd been wearing for what seemed like a lifetime. Gone was the lanky man he'd once been, narcissism no longer the only reason he went to the gym each day. The muscle he'd packed on over the last five years had been in an effort to survive, and now it would serve an even bigger purpose.

Pulling himself away from his thoughts, and the mirror that mocked him, he quickly dressed. Tommy was coming to dinner; now that was a memory he was happy to get lost in. Sure, he wasn't the same man Tommy would be eager to welcome home, but that didn't mean he hadn't missed his best friend and his easy-going ways.

As he left his room, he paused outside of Thea's bedroom; he could hear her moving around inside, muttering under her breath. She'd left earlier, shouting to him and their mother as she hurried toward a waiting car that she would be visiting a friend for lunch and she'd see them later. Oliver had spent much of his afternoon walking around the property with his mom, letting her fill him in on what had been happening in high society. She hadn't asked about the island, though he could see it in the set of her lips that there were a thousand questions begging to be answered. She wanted to give him time, to let him adjust, but eventually, he knew she would want to know. They all would.

Continuing down the hall, his feet were silent on the stairs, his gaze bouncing around the large foyer. The lighting was darker in the mansion than he remembered, mixing with the dark wood paneling and banisters to give the room a glow. He wasn't sure if the fire roaring in the grate added to the effect or not.

Waiting on his guest, he found himself standing by the table that wore all the family pictures and scooped up a familiar one of himself as a toddler and his father as a much younger man. Growing up, his mother often commented on just how much he'd taken after his dad, especially when it came to his grin. 'You're so handsome,' she'd tell him, 'just like your dad.' He'd taken it as a compliment, of course. In fact, he'd never seen his father as anything less than a shining example of a hero figure. Not until it became very clear that 'hero' was not what Robert Queen had been at all.

The door swung open behind him and Oliver raised his head, his body going tense immediately.

"What'd I tell ya…? Yacht's _suck_."

Oliver felt a faint smirk tug at his mouth as he relaxed, placing the picture frame back down and turning to see him.

Laughing under his breath, Tommy grinned elatedly as he advanced for a hug.

"Tommy Merlyn," he said with affection.

They patted each other on the back as they embraced.

"I missed you, Buddy," Tommy told him.

Oliver sighed, relaxing into the hug for a few long seconds before they let go. Stepping back, he rested a hand on Tommy's shoulder and just stared at him for a moment. He looked about the same, except for a more modern haircut. But Tommy was still the same, boyish man he'd left behind. There was a natural lightheartedness that surrounded him and while Oliver couldn't help but appreciate that, he could also admit that some part of him lamented the loss of the same in himself. But that was a long time ago. It'd been ages since he could say, with all honesty, that nothing in the world bothered him.

"What? No post card?" Tommy teased, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm afraid they didn't have a postal service where I was. But if you want, I can stop by the gift shop at the airport and fake one for you."

"Well, don't put yourself out." He took a step back and then cast his eyes around. "Am I the first one here?"

Oliver's brow furrowed. "I thought you were our only guest tonight…" He paused. "Besides Walter."

Pointedly avoiding his gaze, Tommy opened his mouth to reply, but his attention was quickly grabbed. "Thea!" he exclaimed, with more excitement than strictly necessary.

She half-grinned at him as she walked down the stairs. "I just saw you a few days ago, Tommy. Not that I don't appreciate a little love here or there."

He rolled his eyes and walked toward her, meeting her on the bottom step to sling an arm around her shoulders and squeeze her. "A few days is like a lifetime without you," he claimed dramatically.

"Uh-huh." She turned her attention back to Oliver. "What's the ETA on dinner?"

He shrugged. "Soon, I guess."

"Great." She ducked out from under Tommy's arm and moved to the door, closing it after Tommy left it wide open, a cool breeze quickly chilling the area. "Come on, if we get there early enough, Raisa might take pity on me and pour me a small glass of wine." She held her hand up, her fingers a tiny bit apart for emphasis.

Oliver half-smiled down at her and wrapped an arm around her as he led her down the hall toward the dining room. "Aren't you a little young to be hitting the bottle?"

"Really? You want to talk about too young to drink? Because, let me tell you, Tommy already cheesed you out. He gave us all the details about your under-age drinking days, Ollie."

Casting a glare back at Tommy, his lips twitched when his best friend merely held his hands up and shrugged in a 'what can ya do?' manner.

When they stepped into the dining room, he found himself looking around much like he had in every other room. There was something distant about the house, as if it'd been so long since he lived there that everything seemed new, even the antique furniture that outdated even his great-grandparents.

The table was dressed with candles and multiple vases of brightly color tulips. Bowls of salad and dressings were placed on either end, soon to be replaced with platters of food for them to dish out at their discretion.

At the end of the table sat his mother and, to her right, Walter. Thea's seat on the left side of the table was kitty-corner to where he was set to eat, directly across from his mother, while Tommy and another table placement took up the right side. As everybody took their seats, he found himself staring at that empty seat curiously.

"Were we expecting someone else?" he wondered as salad was served.

Tommy and Thea quickly looked at each other, their eyes wide and their eyebrows making jerking motions in silent conversation.

"Thea, I thought you said she agreed she'd be here?" Moira wondered, her brow furrowed. "It isn't like her to be late."

Walter dabbed at his mouth with his cloth napkin, finishing a bite of his salad. "I can call, see if she hasn't gotten caught up." He briefly patted Moira's hand, a faint, affectionate smile turning up his lips. "You know how easily distracted she gets."

"Of course," Moira agreed, nodding.

"I'm sure she's fine," Thea told them, shaking her head. "I talked to her like, an hour ago. Wardrobe change, you know?"

"We can wait…" Moira offered, though she'd already dressed her salad and had a bite ready on her fork.

"No, it's fine." Thea shook her head. "She'll be here. She promised. She'll just… miss out on the appetizers."

"Yeah," Tommy agreed, nodding. "She's been really busy lately, it's not unusual for her to be late." He reached for his glass of wine. "She woke up late this morning, something about an evil alarm that's holding a grudge against her for accidentally throwing it at the wall one time too many…"

Oliver looked between everybody, feeling left out of something that seemed obvious. "I'm sorry… _Who _are we waiting on?" he wondered, his gaze bouncing from his mother to his sister to his best friend, the last two of whom avoided his gaze once more.

"Oh, Oliver, you'll love her," Moira told him happily. "She's been an amazing support for Thea and Tommy, she's just been wonderful. She works at Queen Consolidated, you might have met her before..."

Just then, Oliver heard a voice coming down the hall, mixing with Raisa's distinct accent, and then the click-clack of heels grew nearer until finally their final guest had entered the dining room.

Oliver nearly knocked his salad into his lap as he laid eyes on the one woman he'd spent five years trying not to forget. He didn't have a picture of her to rely on, only his memory, but he thought she might be even prettier than what his mind had cooked up. When he'd first met Felicity Smoak, she'd been a mix of business and a flair all her own. She still modeled her love for bright colors in the electric blue of her dress and the paint on her nails, but there was something more polished about her between the white lace high heels, diamond and pearl earrings, and the studded white belt that hugged her waist. This was a woman who had spent a considerable amount of time and money on her wardrobe than the IT tech he'd first met.

He'd stared at her for so long he thought his eyes were beginning to itch. Words were lost on him. He'd imagined this a thousand time. Not here, not in front of his family, but he'd imagined what he'd say when he saw her again and now he felt like it was all for nothing. All of the suave charm he'd once wielded was missing, he didn't have a line that would make her laugh, and she'd managed to catch him so off-guard that he felt like he was gaping in awe rather than showing off in an attempt to regain her attention.

"I'm not saying the weather man was lying, but I distinctly remember him promising clear skies this morning," she said in greeting, stepping further in the room. She paused by Tommy, her hand on his shoulder as she ducked to kiss his cheek, and then took her place in the seat beside him.

Suddenly, his chest felt heavy. What had Tommy said…? That she'd woken up late that morning. A ball of lead filled his stomach as he looked between Felicity and Tommy. Five years was a long time. His gaze fell, staring at her hands, searching for a ring, a sign, something that would tell him where she was at in her life. There was a stab of relief when he didn't see an engagement ring or a wedding band, but it didn't settle the uncertainty inside him as much as he wanted it to.

"You should write them an angry email," Thea suggested. "One with pictures."

Felicity hummed, taking the napkin laid out on the table and spreading it over her lap. "The last time I did that, they sent me an apology basket of cheese."

"Mm…" Thea shook her head negatively. "No, they sent back a really vague apology letter that Tommy found, you know, when he was illegally going through your mail… Tommy sent you a basket of foreign cheeses to make you feel better."

Holding up his fork, Tommy turned to Felicity and said, "In my defense… you moped about that for like… a week."

"It was two days and that was because I had to cancel a trip due to false weather-casting." She frowned. "And I thought we talked about the mail thing."

"_You _talked… I played Grand Theft Auto and nodded a lot."

She paused, her lips turned down. "That sounds familiar."

Thea snorted. "It's your own fault for not locking up the Xbox."

"He's twenty-eight years old, he should probably be past this at this point."

He shook his head. "No, I plan on being as immature as humanly possible for as long as I can milk it."

Rolling her eyes, Felicity turned her attention to Moira and Walter then. "I'm so sorry I was late for dinner. I always drive slower in the rain, so I didn't quite get my timing right."

"It's perfectly all right," Walter assured. "Not that you're here, though, I was hoping we might talk about a few new programs that have passed my desk."

Moira held up a finger. "Ah, no work-talk at dinner," she reminded, looking between them.

Oliver watched the interactions with curiosity, taking in every facial tick and the telling signs of body language. Felicity was familiar with them, in a way he'd never expected upon returning. When he'd left, she'd only known Tommy, and even that was a newly acquired friendship because of him. But here she was, sitting down to dinner with them, and she fit. She looked at everyone like she'd known them for years, like she'd sat at this very table and eaten meals with them countless times.

He wasn't sure how he felt about that.

When he'd thought about his return, he'd gone over various ways they'd meet. Maybe he'd stop by her office one afternoon, surprise her with lunch like he used to. Or maybe he'd see if he could bump into her outside of her favorite coffee shop, buy her one of those pumpkin spice muffins that they specialized in. But never had he imagined that she'd be here, ensconced in his family. In fact, some part of him had thought to keep it completely separate. He would come home and he would have three distinct parts of his life happening all at once. His home life, with his family, his love life, hopefully with Felicity, and then the other, much darker part of him, that nobody here would ever learn about.

But it seemed what he had planned wasn't going to come to fruition. Now he needed to find an alternate plan; he needed to figure out how this was going to work, how he was going to meld two parts of the life he'd planned out in his head. It was obvious that his mother didn't know he knew Felicity already. So as close as she was to the family, she hadn't shared that tidbit. It was just as obvious that Thea _did _know about his history with her, and that Tommy was well aware that he might be confused about her being at dinner, but hadn't bothered to warn him ahead of time. What did that mean?

It was clear that Felicity and Tommy were close. They were affectionate and comfortable with each other. Tommy talked about her as if he was deeply ingrained in her life and had spoken about her morning as if he was there. But was he? Or was that just something she'd told him about? The idea that Felicity and Tommy might be lovers made his stomach twist up unpleasantly.

Five years was a long time, he reminded himself. He had no right to judge. He had no claim to her. Hadn't he been the one to jet off to China with another woman, all the while making promises to her that when he got back, he would be a better man, the _right _man for her? But was he? He wasn't sure. He was different, yes, but not every facet of him was better for it.

He hadn't touched his salad. It was replaced with a plate of dinner, but even that went barely touched. The succulent roast, broccoli with cheese sauce, and roasted potatoes were too rich for him still. Even the robust scent of it left him a little nauseas. Instead of eating, he watched. He took in the way Walter gently touched Moira's hand. How she leaned over to talk to him; the natural intimacy between them was obvious. He watched Felicity as she cut up her dinner, her pink lips curled up at the corners. She traded banter with Thea and often rolled her eyes at whatever funny thing Tommy was sharing with them next. Tommy was more than happy to be the center of attention.

"Okay, what else did you miss?" He waved a finger toward him and then swallowed what he'd been chewing, his napkin gripped in his hand. "Super bowl winners: Giants, Steelers, Saints Packers, Giants again. Uh, black president, that's new. Oh, and _Lost_… They were all dead… _I think_."

Oliver's eyes darted toward his mother, who raised her glass for Walter to top off with wine, smiling at something he whispered for only her to hear.

"We've watched the series three times, how are you still confused about this?" Felicity wondered, sighing.

"It's a confusing show," he told her defensively. "Also I keep falling asleep… To be honest, the only thing I really remember is that Juliet was hot."

"And Sawyer," she told him, waving a potato speared on her fork in his direction.

He rolled his eyes.

Oliver's eyebrow raised.

"What was it like there?" Thea wondered suddenly, her arms braced on the table as she peered at him curiously.

The table went still, cutlery no longer moving. Tommy even stopped chewing as his attention moved to him.

Oliver's face was carefully masked; his eyes fell to the table briefly before raising to meet hers. He answered honestly, if a little vaguely, "_Cold_."

Thea stared into his eyes a long moment until Tommy's voice broke her concentration and then she blinked her thoughts, her worries, away.

"Tomorrow, you and me, we're doing the city. You've got a lot to catch up on." Tommy nodded, pointing to him with his butter knife.

"That sounds like a great idea," Moira agreed, smiling.

"Good," Oliver said. "Then I was hoping to swing by the office."

Walter paused, his glass raised to his lips but unmoving.

Moira hummed, her head tipped with surprise, brows raised.

"Well, there's plenty of time for all that," Walter assured. "Queen Consolidated isn't going anywhere."

"When I do…" Oliver turned his head, his gaze focusing on Felicity. "Maybe you could show me around, help me re-familiarize myself…"

She stared at him, her bright blue eyes wide, her fork raised just short of her gaping mouth.

"We can start with the coffee room."

A faint flush filled her cheeks, but before she could offer a reply, Raisa moved toward the table, tripping as she went.

Oliver reacted instinctively, catching her, and balancing the bowl of pears she was holding.

"I am so sorry, Mister Oliver," Raisa apologized quickly.

"_Ni dlya kogo ne volnuites_, Raisa."

She gazed down at him in happy shock.

"Dude! You speak Russian!" Tommy laughed in surprise.

"I didn't realize you took Russian in college, Oliver," Walter said, his brow furrowed.

"I didn't realize you wanted to sleep with my mother, Walter," he replied calmly.

Felicity choked on her wine, quickly raising her napkin to cover her mouth.

The room went quiet once more, with Walter's face falling and Moira staring at her son, her eyes a little wide with surprise. A few tense seconds passed before she turned her attention to her daughter, who laughed awkwardly.

"I didn't say anything," Thea defended, shaking her head and dropping her hands to her lap.

Tommy folded his lips and turned his attention to his plate.

Felicity looked between Moira and Walter and Oliver. Though his gaze still hadn't left his mother, he could see her head swiveling from his peripheral vision. He wondered if she was chewing her lip like she used to.

"She didn't have to," Oliver said, removing the blame from his sister.

Moira raised her chin proudly for a moment before pressing her lips in a thin line and nodding. "Oliver… Walter and I are married," she explained, reaching for her husband's hand and squeezing. "And I don't want you to think that either one of us did anything to disrespect your father."

His gaze fell then, staring down at the food that filled his plate, only to cool as it was left untouched.

"We both believed that Robert, like you, was, uh…" Walter stumbled for the right word before finally settling on, "gone."

"It's fine," Oliver assured, offering a faint, uncomfortable smile. And then he rose, pressing his seat back. "May I be excused?"

Slowly, Moira nodded.

He moved to leave, taking only the pear that Raisa had left behind with him. He patted Tommy's shoulder as he passed him.

"Hey, don't forget about tomorrow, buddy," Tommy told him, patting his elbow in return.

Oliver cast a wink over at Thea before he found himself just inches away from Felicity. He wanted to reach for her, to touch the delicate skin of her bare shoulder, to lean over and take in the light scent of her perfume or the floral aroma of her shampoo. He wanted her to look at him and for him to look back, to meet the blue eyes he'd dreamt of for years. He wanted to tell her he had the keychain still and that he'd kept up part of his promise, even if he'd fallen down on the big parts. But he didn't, he couldn't. He wasn't sure what she knew about his time away, but he knew she was probably aware of Sara by now. If her reaction to him, to desperately try and ignore he was even at the table, was anything to go by, he had an uphill battle against him.

Tonight would not be the night he tried his hand at winning her affections. He was on information overload and he wasn't sure what to focus on first. His mother had remarried, his sister had grown up, the woman he'd been desperate to reunite with for five years was close with his family and, possibly, even closer with his best friend. It was too much for one evening and he needed some time to himself.

But he promised himself as he walked away that tomorrow he would do what he set out to. There were a lot of cogs in the machine that had to be set into motion, but this one took the utmost dedication. He would find out what Tommy and Felicity's relationship was tomorrow and, if it was only friendship, then he'd set out to do what he'd promised himself he would. He'd convince Felicity that he was a changed man, and that he was ready to be with her.

Tossing his pear up into the air only to catch it, he made his way down the hall and climbed the stairs to his bedroom. Tomorrow was going to be a busy day. When he thought about her tinkling laughter, a welcome sound after all these years, he knew it would be worth it.

* * *

Felicity felt like she was going a little heavy on the wine, but dinner felt awkward. He was only a few feet away and, well, Thea hadn't been wrong. He looked… _bigger _than he had before. Muscular in a way he hadn't been prior to being marooned on an island. She tried not to look at him. Really, she did. She focused on Thea and Tommy, their banter always a nice end to her day, but there was only so much to be expected of her. So she glanced. She noticed the scruff that hadn't been there before, which was somehow more attractive than the cleanly shaven look he'd rocked previously. His face was more angular, losing the soft, boyishness it once held. His hair was shorter and there was something… edgier about him. He was very still, as if every movement was calculated. He reminded her of an animal, one that was carefully mapping out every movement of its prey. That should've bothered her, worried her even, but there was this soft affection whenever he looked at the people around him. This was his family, and it was clear how much he loved and missed them.

That didn't meant there wasn't something off about him. But it was a little difficult for her to figure out exactly what that was when she was only glancing at him for a split second before she turned her attention elsewhere.

He was still handsome. Maybe even more handsome. And that was… Well, that was somehow both exciting and disappointing. Why could he come back like Thea had suggested, all Tom Hanks' _Castaway_? Then again, she probably would've still fallen for the malnourished thing too. She was the kind of person who shouldn't be allowed near phones when those Sarah McLachlan commercials for the SPCA and abandoned or hurt animals came on, because she would drain her own bank account trying to help while she wept over a carton of ice cream. In fact, as ashamed as she was to admit it, Tommy had talked her out of doing that a few too many times over the years.

But she was getting off topic. Oliver was back and he was better looking than ever, even if he was unusually quiet. Tommy seemed to be trying to make up for whatever he wasn't saying by filling in any gap in conversation, which didn't seem to bother anybody.

Only then he was talking, and he was talking to _her_. He was looking directly at her and asking her for a tour of Queen Consolidated.

She was pretty sure she stopped breathing.

"We can start with the coffee room."

Oh God, what was she supposed to say to that?

Raisa slipped then, taking the attention off of her and it was the perfect time for her to regain her senses.

No, no, she wasn't falling for that. His charm wasn't going to change anything. They were going to be friends, maybe even just acquaintances depending on how things went. She was friends with his family, with Tommy, but that didn't mean she and Oliver had to be spending any significant amount of time together. No, sirree...

Was it wrong that she was relieved when Oliver's attention was turned to Moira and Walter's marriage? Probably. But self-preservation had to come from somewhere. She did feel terrible though. It was clear from Oliver's expression that it was one change he wasn't quite prepared for.

Five years was a long time though, wasn't it?

For instance, feelings she might have once harbored for him were long gone. There was nothing but happiness at his return. Happiness for his sister and his mother and his best friend. They got him back, and that was all that mattered.

Right, exactly, because anything else was pointless. Oliver was just reminding her that he remembered her; that was all. He wasn't flirting, it wasn't anything but polite conversation, an acquaintance asking for some help to get readjusted back home. So maybe she would show him around QC, or maybe he'd never follow through with that particular suggestion. Whatever happened, she promised herself she wouldn't let it sway her in any way. She would _not _get caught up in him.

As far as she was concerned, Oliver Queen would be playing no significant part in her life except that of Tommy's other best friend and Thea's brother. She would keep her distance but remain polite. As long as she did, she was sure they could be civil toward each other. Maybe one day, eventually, they'd be friends. She could handle that. Whatever happened, she would be prepared, because she wasn't expecting anything to come of it.

But as he walked away from the table, needing some time to process what he'd learned, she found herself turning, her gaze tracking him as he moved.

He really was incredibly handsome and, for a second, when she'd first walked in, she could've sworn he'd struggled to tear his eyes from her.

But that was ridiculous.

Wasn't it?

[**Next**: Chapter Two.]

* * *

**Author's Note**: _Hey guys, so sorry for the long wait. Life caught up to me between school, an unfortunate six-week lock jaw incident, and just general stress. I'm so glad that Arrow's back on though as it'll definitely encourage my Olicity love enough to keep me writing more frequently._

_ Thank you everybody for your wonderful reviews; I've had such an amazing response to this story and I really hope you'll enjoy where it's going. I know you were probably expecting something bigger for the first time they meet, but that'll come next chapter, where they'll have some one-on-one time and won't be under the scrutiny of others. /wink_

_Thank you to everyone who's reading, please leave a review, they're a huge encouragement to keep writing. _

-** Lee | Fina**


	3. Chapter Two

**Title**: Until I wrap myself inside your arms (I cannot rest)  
**Series**: If I Was a Better Man  
**Category**: Arrow  
**Genre**: Romance/Drama/Humor  
**Ship**: Felicity/Oliver  
**Chapter Rating**: PG-13/Teen  
**Overall Rating**: NC-17/Explicit  
**Notes**: This is a sequel to a story based on an AU idea where Felicity and Oliver met before he was stranded on the island; it's pretty important that you read that too or you'll be confused.  
**Word Count**: 10,606  
**Summary**: Oliver Queen has returned from an island of purgatory to avenge a city in need of justice. Finding balance in his life is made all the more difficult with a book of names to strike off and a remarkable woman to convince he's worth her time. Fighting crime as the Hood keeps him busy, but getting Felicity to fall in love with him? Now that'll take a whole new level of dedication.

_**Until I wrap myself inside your arms (I cannot rest)**_  
-Novel-

**II**.

Felicity's office was on lockdown from the moment she stepped inside.

"No calls?" Rudy said slowly, his brow furrowed. "Like, none at all?"

"None. I want no interruptions, all right? I've got to call every club in the city for a 'Welcome Back Bash' to put all others to shame. And, considering the guest of honor, I'm either going to get eager to please or talk to the hand…" She rolled her eyes.

"Do people still say that?" he wondered, cocking his head thoughtfully. "I think that one might be out… You know, for someone who has her finger on the pulse, you're a little behind the times."

"I don't have my finger on anything, I just happen to spend a lot of time with people who do. So if you think you're the first person to complain that my pop culture references are outdated, you'd be wrong. And trust me, you've never felt shame until you have Thea Queen looking down at you like a wounded animal she's three seconds away from putting out of its misery."

Blinking a few times, Rudy nodded slowly. "Okay, so it's a kibosh on any outside interruptions? Even if it's Mr. Merlyn or Miss. Queen?"

"Especially if it's them. I'll get nothing done if those two have their way."

"I thought you said Mr. Merlyn was planning this party."

"I did…" She pointed a pen at him, her brows hiked for emphasis as she leaned back in her chair. "And after this long, you should that's code for 'Tommy's had another harebrained idea and I, for reasons still not quite clear to me, am going to make it happen.'"

"You know, if my mother was here she'd tell you that he's never going to grow up if you don't let him… And then she'd pinch your cheeks and tell you that you're too skinny and you should eat more."

Chuckling under her breath, Felicity shook her head. "Sounds like my bubbie…" Briefly, she felt a pang of sadness that she didn't have her grandmother around to hover, but she quickly refocused her attention on the issue at hand. "Okay, so, Patricia… I've given her a to-do list, which means she's on her own for the day. If she has any questions, she needs to figure out the answers for herself."

"Sink or swim," he agreed, nodding, "Okay."

"I sat down with Walter last night to go over a few programs, but I know he had a few questions. I'm not sure he's coming in today, but if he does and he wants to talk, then he's the one exception." She held a finger up meaningfully. "Seriously, until after lunch, I don't want anyone knocking on my door."

"Got it."

"Any questions?"

He tapped his finger against his chin and tipped his head thoughtfully. "What do I tell anybody who calls or drops by?"

"That I'm on a conference call with Japan about that new tech I've been pushing them to share with us."

He frowned. "I thought you convinced them last week to give you a few trial programs."

She grinned. "I did. But you're the only one who knows that."

"Right, very smart. Well, I think that about covers it." He turned on his heel to walk to the door. "I'll see you at lunch… You still wanted me to order from that BBQ place, right?"

"Yes!" she said happily. "Oh god, I can already taste the chicken. I'm going to drool all over the guest list."

Snorting, Rudy paused by the entertainment stand to put on her favorite soothing music before he crossed to the double doors and pulled each of them closed.

Finally alone and surrounded by peace, she turned her chair to gaze out her window at the view below. Considering the storm last night, she was surprised by just how beautiful out it was. The sun was shining, the sky was a clear, cloudless blue, and somehow, it seemed the city itself was sparkling with renewed vitality. Which, given the state of Starling City, especially the Glades, she knew to be false advertising.

Shaking her thoughts off, she whirled back around to face her desk and the considerable job ahead of her. Tommy had talked her ear off last night about what he wanted for the welcome back party, from who he wanted to attend to what he wanted to eat and just how high on the scale of risqué he wanted the party to get. She was taking it as a personal mission to disconnect.

Tommy wanted women; dancers, servers, and attractive guests to fill every corner. He was making it his job to get Oliver laid, and Felicity had absolutely no opinion about that. Or, well, she was trying not to. Obviously she had no right to judge. She and Oliver weren't even a thing. They were a non-thing. They were a pre-thing even before the island and now they weren't even that. So if he wanted to get laid by some gorgeous, leggy model, or three, Felicity wasn't going to judge or get jealous. She was just going to put together a party and hand over the reins to Tommy as soon as the doors opened.

So she would throw this party, she would plan every single detail and let Tommy take all the credit, she might even enjoy a glass of bubbly champagne. And then she'd raise her glass in honor of Oliver's return before heading home to exchange the sparkly dress she knew Thea was going to make her buy (because, according to her, reusing outfits was apparently tacky) for comfy, animated pajamas.

But for now, she had to focus.

A club. She had to find just the right club for this shindig.

Was shindig still a viable word?

She considered it for a moment before grabbing up her phone and texting Thea her question.

As she was clicking through various webpages either saluting or shaming each club in Starling City, her phone pinged.

Only if ur using it ironically, Thea wrote back.

She hummed to herself before shaking her head and returning to her work. The things one learned from a seventeen year old socialite…

* * *

Oliver looked the picture of ease, but on the inside he was on edge. He'd attacked his mother last night; she'd caught him at a bad moment. The storm had come in hard and quick and his memories were as sharp and depressing as any nightmare. He dreamt of his father, of Sara, and the night that everything changed. Even now he could feel the chilling sting of the water all around him, twisting and turning him in all directions as he was caught inside the yacht while it splintered into pieces all around him.

Moira had come to his room; one of the windows was open and banging against the wall. Upon investigation, she found him on the floor, soaking wet and struggling with his inner demons. He'd reacted instinctively when she reached for him, flipping her over and pinning her to the floor. It was only Walter's thundering voice that stopped him, letting him focus on just who he had attacked.

He could have killed her.

He probably would have.

The look in her eyes as she stared up at him, the side of his hand pressed down so hard it cut off her air supply; it was like she didn't know him, didn't know what to expect of him. But as soon as he released her, scrambling away, apologizing sorrowfully as he went, her expression softened and that fear fled from her face.

It shouldn't have.

She should fear him. He was nothing like the spoiled boy who'd left her five years ago. There were things about him, things he'd done, that he knew would make sure she'd never look at him the same. But he didn't tell her that, he let her go on believing that she had her son back, the boy she missed, because some part of him wished he still was that person. Maybe not the selfish part of him, but the ignorant part that could go on blissfully unaware of the terrors of the world. His eyes were opened now, however, and they'd never forget what they'd witnessed.

He had plans with Tommy that morning; after locking the door, he went to his bed and drug out the munitions trunk from beneath. A combination lock kept the contents from prying eyes; he twisted and turned it to the exact numbers he'd long ago filed away in his mind. Lifting the wooden top, he peered down at the cloth cover for a moment before folding it up and taking out a faded, moleskin notebook, placing it on the floor a few inched from his bent knee, and then he picked up a small pouch he'd brought back with him from the island. He raised his head, brow arched, and checked the time. Thea wouldn't have left for school yet, he decided, and, after locking back up the trunk and hiding it away under his bed, he rose from the floor to find her. He grabbed his jacket and pocketed the pouch as he left his room.

Sometimes it felt weird to knock on doors; the island had been so open, so completely lacking in any kind of protection or privacy. His knuckles echoed along the old wood of her door as he waited for a reply.

"Yeah? Come in," she called out distractedly.

He pushed the door open to find her sprawled out on the bed on her back, legs crossed at the ankle. She was wearing her school uniform, though it wasn't as in order as he imagined the school dress code demanded. Thea always had her own sense of style and she obviously hadn't grown out of it. Her cell phone was raised as she tapped away, texting with practiced ease.

Turning her head to see him, she lit up. "Ollie!"

He laughed under his breath, grinning as he shook his head. Nostalgia hit him hard in the chest, leaving him a little dizzy with it. "No one's called me that in a while, Speedy."

Sighing, her eyes fell shut. "Worst nickname ever," she complained, kicking herself up to sit on the edge of her bed.

"What, always chasing after me as a kid? I thought it fit pretty well."

"Yeah, well, sorry to burst the bubble, but my days of trailing after you are over." She hopped off her bed. "If anybody's going to be following anybody, it'll be you following me. I mean, five years is a long time, you probably need a guide to the world as it's come to change."

He smiled at her gently. "And I'm sure your wisdom will come in handy." He dug his hand into his pocket and reached into the pouch he'd put there. He came back with an small, old, arrow-head shaped rock with Asian pictograms scrawled on it. "Anyway, I only stopped in because I got you something…"

She stared at the rock between his fingers, her eyes wide and her mouth agape. "You did not come back from a deserted island with a souvenir," she laughed.

"It's a Hozen," he explained. "And in Buddhism it symbolizes reconnecting… I kept it in hopes that one day it would reconnect me with you."

Taking it from his outstretched hand, she folded her lips as she smiled and pressed the rock to her heart in appreciation, staring up at him, touched by the gesture.

"A rock… that is sweet," Tommy's voice interrupted from the door.

Amused, Oliver inhaled deeply, smirking to himself as he barely refrained from shaking his head at his best friend's timing.

Advancing into the room, Tommy continued, "You know, I want one of those t-shirts that says 'My friend was a castaway and all I got was this crappy shirt.'" He laughed as he stood, looking between them.

Rolling her eyes, Thea turned her attention back to Oliver. "Don't let him get you into too much trouble… you justgot back." She leaned in for a hug while ordering him, "Take it slow."

Oliver squeezed her close, smiling to himself.

"The city awaits," Tommy said as they broke apart.

While Oliver moved toward the door, however, Tommy lingered to speak to Thea.

"Lemme guess, you wanna know if I've talked to Felicity this morning…"

Oliver slowed his steps, his head tipped, listening into their conversation.

"She's ignoring my texts."

"Probably because you put her on party planning detail… You know she likes to give you the cold shoulder when you leave her holding the bag."

"But she's always holding the bag; shouldn't we be past the silent treatment by now?"

"Don't you have things to do? Like reintroducing my brother to his hometown?"

"Fine… I can take a hint." He started backing up, his footsteps ushering Oliver out the door, continuing to act as if he hadn't heard what they'd been talking about.

Unfortunately, his eavesdropping had only left him with more questions. He shouldn't be surprised about the party; when wasn't there a party with Tommy around? But what really bothered him was that it still hadn't given him the answer he really wanted. What were Tommy and Felicity to each other? Was their familiarity a product of five years of friendship or something more? Clearly Tommy relied on and trusted her with things, but just how far did that reach?

Meeting him in the hallway, Tommy raised his brows at Oliver. "All right, Buddy, ready to go?" He clapped him on the shoulder before cheerfully taking the lead out of the house.

Oliver followed after him, all the while wondering how exactly he was supposed to broach the subject of Felicity Smoak.

* * *

Felicity hated phones. They were officially on her hitlist. Why couldn't everybody just bow to the tech age and work through email? Of course, she probably wouldn't have gotten her work done nearly as quickly if she was relying solely on the ability of another person to check and answer all of their emails… Maybe there were a few kinks to work out in her plan still.

Regardless, she hated having to call around to book an event. More, she hated that she was calling to book an entire club. Even after five years of watching Tommy throw his cash at everything that moved, she still felt a little out of her depth when she saw the numbers rack up for big things like this. Of course, it wasn't like she often bought out whole clubs for a night. Except for the last three years on Tommy's birthday and, even then, that was technically on his tab at his behest. But even now she still felt that lead bolt in her stomach when they told her how much it was going to cost, and that wasn't even counting the caterer that she had to hire especially for the event because, quote, "Clubs don't have food, Felicity. Oliver's been living on coconuts and pineapples for five years, you don't think we should have a buffet set up?"

Frankly, no. She'd seen how he barely touched his food at dinner; she imagined his diet had changed significantly and it would take a while for him to readjust. But if Tommy wanted food, she'd order food, and, considering how many people he expected to be there, she'd order a lot of it. Between the food, the alcohol, and the club, the bill was enough to send her into heart palpitations, but it wouldn't be her footing it, so she tried not to cringe.

She had narrowed it down to three of the hottest clubs in Starling City. Two were willing to give her a deal on the price because of how much publicity they stood to gain on having Oliver Queen's first outing at their establishment, but the third one wasn't budging. She couldn't blame them; they were currently doing amazing business and it would only look good on Oliver to make his triumphant return to the top club versus the second or third.

However, Felicity didn't really care what TMZ had to say about it, and, frankly, she preferred an underdog, which was why she was giving it to number three and offering to boost their ratings with Oliver's high class mug. Hours later, when she had the plans all nailed down, she sent an anonymous tip to TMZ and a few paparazzi who weren't completely jerks to let them know the time and place it would be held. Then, work mostly done, she climbed from her chair to refill her coffee mug, a hand on her back as she twisted and turned to get the kinks out from leaning into her computer screen for too long.

Taking her tablet with her, she plopped down on her loveseat and told herself a fifteen minute break was just what she deserved.

She didn't count on falling asleep five minutes in, but hey, she deserved a nap after the mentally exhausting last two days.

* * *

Oliver peered out the window of Tommy's silver SLR McLaren, absently taking in the brick buildings that had seen better days.

"Your funeral blew," Tommy informed him.

"You get laid?"

"Like fish in a barrel," he laughed. "They were so sad and huggy… And I am counting on another target-rich environment for your welcome home bash."

Deciding it was best to feign ignorance, Oliver shook his head, his brow furrowed. "Wait, my what?"

"You came back from the dead! This calls for a party." He waved a hand. "Don't worry though, I've got it covered. I got my best girl on it, all right? She's probably spent her whole morning comparing clubs. I bet she's got files made on all of them and she's tallying up their chances as we speak. If I know Felicity, she'll break it down to a top three list and then twist their arms into giving her a deal. And then, because she's a soft-hearted angel, she's going to go with the underdog." He snapped his fingers, grinning. "Which is fine, I mean, it's still top three, right?"

Oliver stared at his profile for a moment, caught between a grin and a grimace. "Right…" He nodded, turning his gaze out to the road. "You, uh… You rely on Felicity for a lot of these kinds of things?"

Tommy glanced at him, his eyebrows screwed up. And then he blinked, his expression clearing. "Are you…" He laughed. "Are you asking me if Felicity and I are sleeping together?"

His lips pursed faintly, but he didn't respond.

"No, it's okay, you can ask…" he encouraged, his lips turned up at the corner. "You want the truth?" He dragged it out. "Yeah, yeah we have. Five years is a long time, right? I mean, we were both grieving, emotions were high, one thing led to another…"

Oliver licked his lips, taking a deep breath, and resisted the urge to crack his neck, his shoulders tensing up.

"Really," he said, his voice carefully devoid of emotion.

"I mean, did she call out your name in throes of passion? Sure. But so did I." Tommy shrugged. "It was a hard time; we were both having trouble readjusting… No judgement."

Oliver turned to face him, his brow cocked.

With a smirk, Tommy rolled his eyes. "No. No, of course we aren't sleeping together. Are you kidding?" He shook his head. "Well, we did kiss once, a few years back, and I've asked her to marry me a few times when I was drunk, but… No regrets, man. Felicity's… She's my best friend. I don't know if I could've made it through the last five years without her." He scoffed, his expression taking on an uncharacteristic seriousness. "No way was I going to screw that up with sex."

Relief flooded him. He would have respected her decision if she'd chosen to be with Tommy. Hadn't she been teasing him about that right before he left? But he couldn't say he wasn't happy that she and Tommy hadn't gone beyond friendship. Of course, that didn't mean she'd be any more receptive to him, it just meant he didn't have the obstacle of his best friend facing him. Then again, that didn't mean there weren't other men to contend with. Felicity was a smart, beautiful woman, it wouldn't surprise him if she had a number of men knocking down her door for her attention. Hadn't he, the proverbial bachelor, spent 9 months doing just that?

"Sounds like you've done some growing up while I was away."

"Maybe a little." Tommy took an abrupt turn, coming to a stop at a red light. He frowned at the collection of homeless people on the corner across the road. Make-shift shelters of cardboard and plastic were pressed against an old, abandoned brick building. An oil drum was surrounded by three men, warming their hands over a fire burning inside.

"This city's gone to crap," he complained. "Y'know, your dad sold his factory just in time."

Oliver turned his head to peer out the window at the factory in the distance, through the chain link fence. Queen Industrial Inc. Steel Fabrication & Welding read the faded writing.

"Why'd you want to drive through this neighborhood anyway?"

His expression became intense, brow raised as he mentally went over the calculations in his head. "No reason," he answered.

"So what'd you miss most?" Tommy grinned at him. "Steaks at the Palm? Drinks at The Station? Meaningless sex?"

"Do you even have to ask?" he wondered, staring down at his lap a moment.

Slowly, Tommy's face fell. "Felicity."

Oliver didn't reply, remaining stoically quiet for a moment.

"Look, what I said before, it was probably in bad taste. Truth is, Felicity took it pretty hard when you went missing… I think she was confused, you know? You guys were kind of… undefined." The light above turned green and the car surged forward. "I don't think she really knew if she was allowed to grieve, so she spent a lot of time trying not to." He shrugged, shifting in his seat a little. "She buried herself in work, put a lot of energy into me and Thea… It was hard, watching her do that to herself." He sighed. "I don't know what to tell you… If you want to know if Felicity is going to be open to picking things up where they were…"

"No." Oliver lifted his chin and turned to him. "Not where they were. I wasn't ready then. I wasn't serious enough."

Tommy eyed him speculatively before turning his attention back to the road. "And now?"

He inhaled deeply and said, with all sincerity, "I'm ready."

A few beats passed before he nodded. "Okay… If you wanna do this, I'll support you. I can't guarantee she'll go for it, but if you want, I'll put in a good word for you."

Oliver half-smiled. "I'd appreciate it."

"Great." Tommy checked the time on his dash. "Why don't we get some breakfast and then swing by QC? We'll bring her favorite from Starbucks, surprise attack her; it'll be just like old times."

His lips twitched, but he shook his head. "One stop first."

Brows furrowed, he asked, "All right, where to?"

"I think it's called…" His brow furrowed as he thought back to the Google search he'd executed the night before, "City Necessary Resources Initiative…?"

Tommy blinked. "You want to go to CNRI?" He turned to look at him searchingly, his shoulders stiff. "Laurel Lance? You want to go see the one person in the city who isn't happy you're back?"

He turned to him, his expression serious. "I owe her an apology… If it wasn't for me, she'd still have her sister."

Staring at him a long moment, he finally let out a long sigh. "Fine. But if she decks you, I'll take a picture and hang it in your room to remind you of all the reasons you shouldn't be selfless." With that, he pressed his foot down a little harder on the gas pedal, bringing Oliver closer to a small chance at redemption.

Oliver couldn't help but notice that Tommy didn't need to use the GPS, as if he visited CNRI often.

* * *

"We don't need to go outside the law—"

"To find justice. Your dad's favorite jingle."

Oliver looked over, taking his attention off the pin board covered in information on Adam Hunt, currently number one on his list. He turned to face the young woman who slowed down as she spotted him. She was pretty; he could see the familiarity between her and Sara, especially in her smile and the way her cheeks seemed to get even rounder. But her smile fled quickly as she laid eyes on him and he felt guilt stir angrily in his stomach.

"Miss. Lance," he said, his tone solemn.

She stared at him, her eyes a little wide. "Ye—Uh, yes…" She swallowed thickly and glanced away briefly. "What… What are you doing here?"

He lifted his chin a little higher. "I didn't mean to catch you off guard. I tried calling earlier, but everything sounded so busy that I wasn't sure the message would get to you." He wasn't sure what to do with his hands; part of him wanted to tuck them away in the pockets of his jacket, another part wanted to fiddle with them, tugging at the fingers in a sign of discomfort.

Laurel took a look around the busy room and sighed. "We can't do this here." She reached for her jacket. "Johanna, I won't be long."

"Sure," her friend agreed, nodding as she eyed Oliver uncertainly.

He offered a faint smile, but knew that it would do little to comfort anyone. He followed silently behind Laurel as she made her way outside. The building CNRI worked out of was all right, if cluttered. It was in the Glades, so it wasn't the best condition it could be, but they'd obviously put some work in to get it to a liveable condition. As much as he wanted to comment on it, however, he knew she wouldn't appreciate anything he had to say.

She slowed to a stop just outside of the building, folding her arms over her chest as she turned to face him, her expression stony.

He turned his gaze away from her unforgiving eyes for a moment, taking in the street, more than half of the buildings wearing graffiti and gang signs. He went over the speech he'd put together in his head, but everything he'd come up with seemed so useless now, holding none of the weight necessary to be worthy of her forgiveness.

"I owe you an apology…" he began, finally turning to face her.

He could see her jaw tick as she ground her teeth. "Is that what this is…? You absolving yourself of any kind of guilt?"

His gaze fell briefly. "No," he said honestly. "Apologizing to you won't make any of it better… I'll still remember what happened and what part I played in it. Sara was… She was a good person and she didn't deserve what happened to her."

"Don't…" her voice shook with the intensity of her anger. "Don't talk about her like you knew her. You… You spent, what? A few days with her and you think you know what she was like?" Her eyes brimmed with tears. "You were just some drunk asshole who took a complete stranger on a yacht for fun!" She laughed abruptly, the bitterness palpable. "And by some completely twisted karma, my sister, who has never done a terrible thing in her life, gets caught up in your stupid charm and just… just takes off, just throws her whole life away…" She threw her hands up. "Literally!"

He stood silently by, letting her get it out.

"And it's so…" She stepped away from him, beginning to pace back and forth. "It's stupid, because I can't blame you, I can't blame her…" She shook her head. "It was a freak accident, right? A storm…" She rubbed a hand over her trembling mouth. "But I do. I do blame you… Because you're here. And she's not." She turned to face him, her expression dark. "We buried an empty coffin, because her body is at the bottom of the ocean… Where you left her."

He swallowed thickly and met her eyes. "I know that it is too late to say this, but I am sorry."

She turned her head away, a tear finally escaping down her cheek. She swiped it away quickly. "Maybe you are… Maybe you really mean it. But I… I can't… I can't accept it." Letting out a shaky breath, she turned, making way back inside the building.

Oliver stood there a long minute before finally nodding. That went about as good as he could expect. He'd never lied to himself; he always knew the chances of Sara's family forgiving him were slim to none. But still, there was a tiny spark of hope that somehow Laurel would see how genuinely sorry he was that he was the reason her sister was dead.

He walked down the sidewalk toward where Tommy was waiting, leaned back against a wrought-iron fence.

"So? Did that blow up in your face as much as I thought it would?"

"She didn't deck me, so not quite like you thought."

"The day's early, my friend. You could always run into her later."

He snorted. "Something to look forward to."

Pushing off the fence, they walked toward the empty alleyway Tommy had parked his car. Oliver was fairly sure it wasn't meant for public parking, but when had that every stopped them?

Tommy tucked his hands away in the pockets of his jacket to ward off the morning chill still lingering in the air. "Okay, so we got that out of the way. Good call. Now we're ready to make up for lost time," he said cheerfully. "If you're not too sick of fish, I suggest we go find some leggy models and eat sushi off them. What do you say—?"

Behind them, a van suddenly came barreling through, creaking with age and misuse.

"What the hell?!" Tommy exclaimed, turning abruptly to face the van, confused.

From the other direction, two masked attackers appeared.

Raising a dart gun, one shot Tommy in the back, who fell to the ground, knocked out immediately. The other raised his own gun toward Oliver, which he caught instinctively. A door opened to the left of him, a man exiting, calling out, "Hey!" in surprise. A spatter of semi-automatic fire shot him down where he stood.

Unable to stop himself, Oliver fell against the back of Tommy's car and slid to his knees, struggling to keep his eyes open and on the opponents that were quickly surrounding him. His vision started to flicker as he stared up at the red, ghoulish mask peering down at him. Tommy was being tied up a few feet away while Oliver's mind began to war against him.

As he fell unconscious, he dreamt of his father, of the lifeboat they'd escaped on and his dad admitting that he wasn't the man Oliver thought he was. "I didn't build the city, I failed it… And I wasn't the only one."

It echoed in his ears as he was forced back to consciousness.

A bag was ripped from his head and he was against faced with the ghoulish masked men who'd taken him and Tommy.

"Mr. Queen. Mr. Queen!" the ringleader exclaimed, demanding attention. A taser was held up for him to see and sparked twice.

Oliver quickly took stock of himself and his surroundings. It was dark and damp, shafts of sunlight slipped through slitted windows high on the warehouse walls. The space was large and empty except for random clutters of useless, forgotten supplies. He was sitting on a single, wooden chair, his arms zip-tied behind him. Not far away, Tommy was laid out on a wooden pallet, unmoving.

"Did your father survive that accident?"

Oliver looked from him to the other masked man, this one unarmed, his eyesight still a little hazy, and he stretched his wrists apart, testing the strength of the zip ties.

"I ask the questions, you give the answers."

Oliver didn't answer, and the man looked behind him toward a third man, this one holding a Galil 5.56mm. Irritated with Oliver's lack of response, he held out his arms, silently asking his armed friend what to do now.

Turning his attention back to Oliver, he stabbed the taser against his chest.

Crying out, Oliver's chest pushed forward, a shock running abruptly throughout him, stinging every nerve-ending into terrible reply. His knees lifted, body desperate to curl into itself and seek protection from the pain. He panted through clenched teeth, spittle flying from his lips, as the taser was taken away, aftershocks still zipping through him.

"Did he make it to that island? Did he tell you anything?"

Oliver glared at the ground, brow furrowed tightly, his lips drawn back from his teeth in a snarl.

When he received no response, the man pressed the taser against Oliver's chest again.

He didn't holler this time, only shaking his head as he angrily groaned in protest.

Seconds passed as Oliver tried to catch his breath, pushing past the pain to the well of anger inside him, simmering and vengeful. "Yes, he did," he finally said.

The man nodded, seemingly triumphant in getting Oliver to talk.

He leaned in close, hands braced on his knees, and queried, "What did he tell you, Mr. Queen?"

Oliver let out a breath, watching as it puffed up in a cloud in the cold air. He stared at Tommy's unmoving frame, his face slack, and his breath coming a little quicker. He slowly raised his head, a muscle twitching in his jaw. He glared up at the masked man from beneath the heavy weight of his brows. "He told me I'm gonna kill you," he said, his voice lethal and dark.

He laughed, turning to his two cohorts, encouraging them to laugh along with him, and then he returned his attention to Oliver and leaned in close. "You're delusional. You're zip-cuffed to that chair."

He barely restrained himself, his first instinct to attack, but took a moment to watch the man as he stood upright, his feet shifting anxiously.

Oliver drew his arms forward then, no longer cuffed at all. "Not anymore."

Immediately, the second, unarmed man reached for his pocketed gun, while the man with all the questions took a swing at him. Ducking, Oliver pulled his chair up from under him and blocked the oncoming attack, pushing forward to knock the man off balance. He turned to the second attacker then and slammed the seat of the chair into his throat. Snapping off a wooden peg from the back rest, he then pivoted to stab it into the chest of the man wielding his taser. Blocking his arm, Oliver twisted it around so his assailant tased himself in the neck. Hearing the third man's approach, he quickly turned them around, his arm locked around his neck to hold him up as a shield. A barrage of bullets flew, making the man Oliver held nothing but dead weight. He let him drift to the ground in a slump and his last opponent turned to run away.

Oliver lurched forward, bending down to check Tommy's pulse, his fingers drifting under the cover of his jacket collar, finding his neck and the steady pulse beating away. Assuring himself that his friend was alive and would be okay, he continued on to pursue the fleeing man, unaware that Tommy's eyelids had drifted open, consciousness quickly returning.

He caught up with the assailant quickly enough, but when he turned to rattle off a few bullets, Oliver was forced to seek cover, climbing up a set of rickety wood stairs and pulling himself up onto a covered platform. He continued making his way up the building, out of sight, and kept his attacker within range, tracking him until they had both exited the building. While the masked man had found a set of stairs from a lower vantage point, Oliver was higher and so had to frog-leap his way onto a metal beam, barely pausing before he jumped down to the patchy roof below, executing a roll before he found his feet once more.

Hearing him, the man turned and took aim, but while his gun continued to fire as he followed Oliver's descent, sliding down the sloped roof, he wasn't quick enough to catch up to him. Dropping his gun, he ran down the rest of the stairs to the alleyway below and turned sharply to race away from him. Oliver leapt off the roof and hit the wall of an adjacent building. Finding a foot hole, however, he merely ping-ponged his way from one wall to the other, a few feet lower each time, until he was on the ground in a crouch. Arms pumping at his sides, he took after him once more, this time much closer.

They ducked into a different building and the man finally rid himself of his mask, letting it fall, useless to the ground, as he turned to face Oliver, his gun raised. Oliver appeared on a metal plateau and gunfire trailed him as he raced across it, leaping off to grab a long chain, which he then used to swing himself around toward his kidnapper, who was now struggling with his jammed gun. Oliver released the chain and quickly caught him, his arm around his neck, bending him backwards.

"You killed that man," Oliver accused, holding him in a headlock.

"You don't have to do this," the kidnapper pleaded, struggling to get Oliver's arm off of him, but it only squeezed, tightening around his throat.

He winced at the words, his teeth clenched. "Yes, I do," he said quietly. "Nobody can know my secret." With that, he very abruptly twisted the man's neck, snapping it entirely. He released his hold and the man fell to the ground in a mass of useless limbs. No longer breathing or talking or moving. He was dead, and Oliver stared down at him for a long moment before releasing a sigh.

It wasn't the first man he'd killed, not by far.

And it wouldn't be the last.

* * *

Felicity was freaking out.

No, freaking out didn't even cover it. What she was feeling was on a whole new level. Somebody would have to come up with a new word to describe just how terrified and worked up she was. She'd been napping. Peacefully, at that, until her door was thrown open and Rudy marched inside.

"Tommy's been kidnapped!" he blurted out, bouncing back and forth on his feet, his eyes wide with stres.

"Wh-What?"

"It—It's okay!" he assured, nodding quickly. "He's fine now. He and Oliver Queen were attacked, they were taken somewhere, but they got out. Honestly, they're fine. No injuries, or at least that's what Mr. Steele said when he called. They're at Queen's now. Everything's fine, but I thought you'd want to know, so…"

All she heard was "Tommy was kidnapped" and then she was on her feet. She almost forgot her heels. She was out of it, her head still fuzzy with sleep. She needed her bag, her shoes, did she have her keys? Should she even be driving, shaking as bad as she was? No, apparently not. Rudy said he called her a cab and Felicity almost hugged him for it. But they'd just had that conference on sexual harassment in the work place and some part of her, obviously weird, brain told her not to.

She took the elevator down to the main floor, all the while pacing from one end to the other; it was enough to scare off people on two different floors from joining her on the descent. Apparently finding an anxious woman on the elevator wasn't what they signed up for. Having left her hair down, she tried to busy her hands with combing through the curls, twining it around her fingers and tugging. It was only when they got caught and started causing knots that she stopped, only to start fiddling with the folds of her red silk blouse.

Finally, the elevator reached the main floor and she could barely wait for the doors to open before she raced across the lobby and outside to the waiting taxi. The ride to Queen Mansion, which she'd made a thousand times before, was nerve-wracking. What did 'okay' mean? Did that mean he was uninjured or just alive? Well, he couldn't be too injured if he wasn't in the hospital… But what about mental scarring? Oh, God, what if he was completely and totally destroyed? What if he was suffering from PTSD or something? That happened, right? That was common after something like this? Being kidnapped was traumatic…

She paused in her thoughts, because, well, Oliver had just spent five years on a deserted island… He probably had PTSD. And getting kidnapped likely didn't help. How was he dealing with it? Was he okay? She couldn't remember if Rudy had said anything more outside of the fact that he was kidnapped too. Was he injured? Confused? He'd probably had to deal with a lot since coming back. He hadn't been back in Starling City long and already his life was in danger.

Groaning, she ran a hand down her face.

She wanted to text Thea, but she wasn't sure how much she knew and she didn't want to scare her since she didn't have any answers if Thea had questions of her own. She considered texting Tommy, but she would rather set eyes on him in person. Even if he was hurt, she doubted he'd mention it over text. He'd play the humor card and she was in no mood for him covering up an obviously big deal.

The car came to a halt suddenly and she realized that all of her mental rambling had taken up the time it took to get to Queen Mansion. There were unfamiliar cars out front that she assumed were police, or, hopefully, added security. Felicity quickly paid what she owed and gave the man a hefty tip before she exited, rushing inside, not bothering to knock or wait on any of the staff to direct her.

She raced through the halls until she reached the sitting room. It was a little more crowded than she expected. Moira and Walter sat on one sofa, while Oliver and Tommy took up another, all four of them facing a familiar detective, while his partner, Detective Hilton, stood near the window looking out on the grounds. Lastly, Raisa stood to the side, her arms crossed in front of her, hand wrapped around her wrist.

"So that's your story? A guy in a green hood flew in and single-handedly took out three armed kidnappers?"

Her breath caught in her throat, evidently making a noise as all eyes turned to her. She didn't know there were tears in her eyes until one spilled down her cheek. It was a mixture of relief and concern that had her so overwhelmed.

Tommy was up and out of his seat as soon as he saw her. "Felicity!"

"Three!? There were three kidnappers?" She pushed forward, reaching for him. "Are you okay? Did they hurt you?" she wondered, looking him over worriedly as she reached out to pat his arms and chest, looking for any kind of injuries.

"Just my pride, really." He grinned reassuringly. "I was out cold for most of it." He caught her hands and pulled her forward, wrapping her in a hug. "I'm fine, I promise."

She let out a heavy sigh, her arms wrapping around him tightly. She shook her head against him, closing her eyes. "Rudy said you were kidnapped. I—I didn't know what to do. I just… I didn't ask questions; I just needed to see you."

He chuckled under his breath. "You? Didn't ask questions?"

"Shut up," she muttered, relaxing a little more.

Letting go of her, he stepped back, his hands rubbing her arms comfortingly. He stared into her eyes, searching her gaze. "We're fine, both of us."

She paused then, her eyes slowly moving to the right, taking in Oliver, sitting quietly on the couch, his posture stiff. He stared right back at her, something unreadable in his face.

She struggled with what to say. Should she hug him too, or…?

"I—I'm glad." She swallowed tightly and glanced away from Oliver's intense eyes to see the detective sitting there, not quite as patiently as he could be. "Hey, Detective Lance. Not the best circumstances to see each other again."

He offered her a faint smile. "No, it isn't. But not every day can be lasagna night."

Her brow furrowed suddenly. "I… I'm sorry, did you say that the person who saved them was wearing a hood?"

"According to him, yeah." His eyes cut toward Tommy as he flipped up a drawing of a hooded figure. "What about you…? Did you see the hood guy?"

"I saw…" Tommy hesitated, glancing at Oliver and then back to Detective Lance. "Just movement. Everything blurry. Uh, I was kind of out of it."

"Yeah…" Detective Lance smiled, but it was lacking the warmth Felicity had seen in the past. He turned to look at Oliver, his voice taking on a much darker tone. "It's funny, isn't it? One day back and already somebody is gunning for you. Aren't you popular?"

Moira's expression hardened. "Were you able to identify the men?" she asked, drawing his attention to her.

"Scrubbed identities, untraceable weapons; these were pros," Hilton replied.

"Yeah," Lance sighed. "They probably figured you'd pay a King's ransom to get your boy back. Or a Queen's ransom, as it were..."

Moira turned her gaze away, looking exasperated with his attitude.

He snickered under his breath and returned his attention to Oliver. "After all, a parent would do anything to keep their child safe."

Oliver stared back at him, and Felicity found herself looking between the two men. She'd known Detective Lance for a few years now and knew why he didn't like Oliver. She could even, in some way, understand why he blamed him, not that she completely agreed. As much as she didn't approve of Oliver's behavior, Sara's death was an accident. Oliver couldn't control the weather; that storm was unexpected and couldn't be helped. So as much as she understood the Detective's anger, she could also be a little more objective about the situation. But this wasn't her place, she wasn't going to get in between them and make it any worse.

That didn't stop Moira from doing just that, however. "I don't find your tone appropriate, Detective."

Walter stood up then, drawing attention to him. "If Oliver can think of anything else, we'll be in touch." He passed a look between him and Hilton. "Thank you, gentleman, for coming."

Offering a sarcastic grin, Lance reached down and grabbed his bag, putting away the sketch as he stood from his chair. He nodded his head in farewell to Moira and Walter and then turned to Oliver, who had risen from his couch, too.

"Your luck never seems to run out, does it?" After an intense few seconds staring him down, Lance finally turned, walking toward his partner before they followed Raisa out of the sitting room.

The tension in the room was palpable. Felicity swallowed tightly, looking between everybody before turning her head up to look at Tommy. "You're sure you're okay? You're not dizzy? I read some tranquilizers can have bad side effects… Like, maybe you didn't know you were allergic to something in them. Well, it's not like your kidnappers would really look into that kind of thing… Although, that'd be really effective. I mean, if somebody wanted to take me out, all they'd need is a peanut. A lot more effective and definitely cheaper than paying black market prices for tranquilizers…"

He grinned down at her, amused by her rambling. "You know what, you're right?"

"I am? Oh god." Her eyes widened. "Oh God, what hurts? Do you need to sit down? Do you want water? Should I call somebody?"

"I'm kinda hungry. I was thinking… mm, Italian. You know, that one place, on the corner, by the flower shop?"

Her face fell and, taking a deep breath, she pulled a fist back and punched him in the shoulder. "You jerk! I was really worried!"

He laughed lightly, squeezing an arm around her shoulders. "I'm fine, really. It was one kidnapping." He rolled his eyes. "Frankly, I'm surprised it didn't happen earlier."

"Not. Funny," she grumbled, punching his arm again.

"All right, okay." He bent to kiss her forehead. "Listen, I'm going to make a call, put in a reservation for us at the Italian place, all right? If it'll make you feel better, we can talk about what happened… Even though you and I both know you'll probably just hack the SCPD files and see for yourself."

She pursed her lips to hide her smile because, yeah, okay, that's exactly what she planned on doing later.

Giving her shoulders another squeeze, he finally disengaged and moved to walk away, pulling his phone from his pocket to call the restaurant.

It wasn't until he was out of sight that she realized what he'd done. She turned around and found that Walter and Moira had left, leaving only Oliver in the room. He stood by the window, his expression tight, and she found herself wondering if he was going over Quentin's words in his head. Did he feel guilty about Sara? Did he blame himself for what had happened? Part of her wanted to ask while another part didn't think she had the right.

She twisted her hands together, struggling with what to say, wondering if she should even say anything. Maybe she should just follow Tommy out, see where he'd wandered to and leave this whole Oliver thing completely alone. But the rational part of her brain piped up; this was Oliver's house, yes, but it was also Thea's. She would be here, and often, so she needed to get over this irrational discomfort around him. It couldn't go on like this, with this weird unsaid 'thing' between them.

Finally, gathering her strength, she walked toward him, her eyes taking in the tall, broad form he cut, the sun dappling over his shoulders and making his hair seem brighter. Cut as it was, she almost couldn't see the blond that threaded through it. It fit him, she thought, probably better than the longer look he'd sported years ago.

"You're okay?" she asked, jumping in with both feet.

His head swiveled toward her.

"I mean, obviously you're not okay, dumb phrasing. You were just marooned on an island for five years and now you're back and, in less than 36 hours, you've been kidnapped." She waved a hand. "'Okay' probably isn't in the same stratosphere of where you're at. It's just— It's just one of those things, right? Those really awkward fillers that people use when they feel weird but they think they should say something and they don't want to be impolite. Not— Not that talking to you makes me uncomfortable or anything. Or, well, it didn't. I mean, this is the first conversation we've had and it's pretty much all me rambling, so I'm not really sure if that exactly helps my point or hinders it. I guess I won't know until I stop babbling like an idiot, which I'm going to do in 3, 2, 1…" She blew out a shaky breath and reached up to readjust her glasses, giving him a trembling smile.

It was adrenaline, she told herself. Leftover from the fear coursing through her when she thought Tommy, her best friend, was hurt. She'd had friends before, of course. Although most of them didn't come until college, where she was a lot more accepted than in high school. But none of them were quite as close to her as Tommy was. He was her rock. These last five years, as terrible and emotional as they'd been, had also been some of her best. Because of his friendship, she was confident and happy. Yes, he sometimes caused more trouble than anything, but she could handle that. It was never anything so insane that a little hacking and admonishment couldn't fix. So yes, it was adrenaline; that was why she was acting so ridiculously.

But when Oliver grinned at her then, ducking his head a little and letting out a laugh under his breath, it wasn't adrenaline that made her stomach twist and flip, or her heart hammer a little harder in her chest; it was something else. Something she definitely wanted to completely ignore.

"I'm fine," he said, nodding his head a little as he stepped toward her, his eyes washing over her face. "Kidnappers are taken care of, Tommy and I got out okay, I think I'd put it down as a win in the book."

"Well, except for the part where they were professional kidnappers, which probably means they were hired by somebody and not doing it completely of their own planning."

He blinked at her, looking a little surprised, his head tipping as he stared at her thoughtfully. "Except that," he said, his voice a little mystified.

"You're in good hands, if it helps…" She rolled her eyes. "I mean, yeah, Detective Lance doesn't really like you, but he's a great detective and, if there's a lead to follow, he'll find it."

He paused for a moment. "You know him well?" he wondered.

"I do…" She shifted her feet. "There was a group. A, uh, grief group, actually. We had a memorial for everyone who was lost on… on the Queen's Gambit and we wanted to have some kind of counseling group when we realized how many were affected." She swallowed thickly. "And, well, he and Laurel came to it. Or, um, I guess Laurel went and then she kind of dragged him to it. She was hoping it would help, I guess… She was really worried about him. So…" She nodded. "I met them there, Tommy and I both did. Laurel and I are friends. The group doesn't really meet anymore, life kind of got the best of us, but… We stay in touch."

"Lasagna night," he said softly.

"Yeah." She half-smiled. "Yeah, open invitation to Tommy and me. I don't get out as often as I'd like, but… I try to."

He stared at her another long moment. "I… I didn't expect you to be here." He winced. "I don't mean today. You and… Tommy, you guys are close. I just… I mean at dinner, the other night. I wasn't expecting you."

She nodded, casting her eyes away. "Yeah, I… It was stupid, expecting them to warn you. Why waste the unnecessary drama, right?" she muttered sarcastically. "Tommy introduced me to Thea not long after you… disappeared. She was having a tough time, she didn't have a lot of friends who could understand, so… We started coming around more, spending time with her. We got close. And then…" She shrugged. "Walter started coming around too, trying to help your mom, and things just started to come together, you know?"

"Yeah…" He dropped his gaze to the floor. A few beats passed in silence, but she wasn't sure if they were uncomfortable. Maybe less so than before, but still noticeably empty.

"You know, I… I had this plan that when I saw you again, I would just know what to say, but… Here you are and… And I'm…" He shook his head, his mouth screwed up with a frown.

"You don't have to say anything." She shook her head, stepping toward him. "Oliver, what happened, the storm and… and the island… I can't imagine how awful that was for you. I really can't. But I know that your family is blessed to have you back. They're ecstatic." She smiled up at him. "And Tommy, I mean… I can't even put into words how happy he is to have his best friend back."

"From what I hear, he made a new one."

His voice wasn't bitter and, for that, she was thankful. She stared up at him, her heart skittering in her chest. "When you went missing, I had Tommy on my doorstep every night, drunk and broken and lost… And I didn't know what to do, I didn't know how to help him or make it better, so I let him in and I let him talk and I tried to be his friend. I told myself that whatever happened to you, the only thing I could do to make that a little better was take care of the people you loved. So I did." She shrugged a little, her gaze falling. "I'm glad you're back… For Tommy and Thea and your mother… They deserve to have you back."

And a weight felt like it had lifted from her shoulders. Suddenly she didn't feel awkward or uncomfortable, because she'd said what she wanted to say. And now he knew. She was ready to step back, to find Tommy, and leave it at that, but then his voice reached out.

"And you?" he wondered.

She raised her eyes once more to meet his searching gaze.

"Are you glad I'm back for you?"

"Oliver," she said, his name a strangled, rasping noise that made her want to clear her throat and pretend she wasn't completely distracted by the way he was looking at her.

This wasn't how it had been before. The Oliver she remembered was lighthearted, rarely taking anything serious. The only time she could remember him being serious was when he made that big speech about how he wanted to be better, he wanted to be with her and he was going to change his life to do it. And two days later, he left on a yacht with another woman.

It was that memory that made her take a large step back, her resolve steeling herself against him. "I'm here for your family," she said with certainty.

His face clouded then and he turned his eyes away. "Then they're lucky to have you."

"Don't get me wrong, because I'm happy that you're okay. Really, I am. I… I spent a long time wishing for that." She shrugged her shoulders high. "I never really stopped wishing for that. But it wasn't for me… It wasn't because I wanted you to come home and whisk me off my feet like you promised…" Her hands clenched then, fingernails digging into her palms. "It's not like it was then. I don't want it to be."

He winced, but turned around, no longer facing her, his gaze on the yard. "I made a promise to you that I would come back better… I know I haven't proved that to you yet, but I will."

She let out a faint laugh then and he looked back at her, his brow furrowed.

"You made a lot of promises, Oliver." She stared at him, a humorless smile turning up one side of her lips. "Look, I… I don't want us to be on bad terms. Between Tommy and Thea, we'll be seeing a lot of each other, so… Let's just put our past behind us, okay?" She offered a real smile then. "No hard feelings, I promise."

He shook his head faintly. "You have every right to be angry with me," he tried.

"No, I don't." She shook her head. "Oliver, you and me, that was… It was never going anywhere, okay? We were too different. We liked each other, but it never would have worked. Trust me, I have spent five years going over the 'what-if's' and it was a no-win situation." Oh, she'd gone over the what-if's. So many times she could reiterate them to him like a well-read book. Some of them ended happily ever after, but she'd long ago convinced herself those were the dreams of a naïve girl. Shaking her head, she stepped forward. "So we start over, as friends, okay? Here, I'll start." She held her hand out expectantly. "Hi, I'm Felicity Smoak…"

He stared at her hand a long moment before finally reaching forward, his hand sliding into hers and squeezing. He just held it, not saying anything for a long moment. It was warm and callused, so large that it seemed to swamp her. She swallowed tightly, angry at herself for enjoying the all-encompassing weight and warmth of his grip.

The spell was broken when finally he murmured, "Oliver Queen."

And she breathed a sigh of relief even as her traitorous heart sunk. Because some part of her wanted him to say something else, anything else, to fight for her and show her that he wouldn't just accept what she was offering. But another part, the part she knew was the far saner survivalist in her, knew that this was right. This would save them both from heartbreak.

"Felicity? We've got a table reserved for 6," Tommy's voice called as he returned. "Did you want a ride back to QC? I'm on my way out."

She stared down at the hand still holding hers, Oliver's thumb gently running over her knuckles. "Y-Yeah," she called over her shoulder before slowly drawing her hand back. Clearing her throat, she shifted, smoothing out a non-existent wrinkle in her black pencil skirt. "I guess I'll see you around."

He nodded down at her, before he let his eyes sweep over her form and he stepped back.

Turning on her heel to leave, she only paused as he called out, "You look beautiful… Even more than I remember."

She looked back at him over her shoulder, reading the sincerity in his face, and she silently railed against the butterflies fluttering up a storm in her stomach. "That's not starting over," she muttered.

He grinned then, laughing a little under his breath. "I've never been good at that."

She pushed herself to keep walking, to leave behind that handsome, smiling man who'd shadowed too many of her thoughts these last five years. But even as her steps echoed and she followed a chatty Tommy outside to her car, she found herself distracted.

She told Oliver she wanted to start over, she wanted to put it all behind them and just be friends. But she wasn't so sure how true that had been. Yes, she wanted to still be a part of his life, and given her choice of friends it was pretty obvious she would be whether she wanted to or not. But even if she wanted to pretend she hadn't felt it, it didn't erase that very excited, hopeful feeling inside her when he so much as breathed the same air as her. So yeah, it would probably be the worst mistake she ever made, getting in any way entangled with Oliver Queen, but there was no avoiding it. She would just have to be extra strong; she would not let herself fall for him. She wouldn't let him anywhere near her heart again.

Friendship.

That was the only course of action.

Now if only she could forget that boyish smile he'd given her when she rambled…

[**Next**: Part III.]

* * *

**Author's Note**: _I just went to send out a huge thanks to everyone who has reviewed. It's very encouraging and definitely helps to make sure that I keep up with writing. You've all been so positive with your feedback and it makes writing for this story all the more enjoyable. I hope you enjoyed this chapter too. I hope to have more up soon._

_Also, for anybody interested, I do have a polyvore with all of Felicity's, and some of Thea's, outfits on it. I'm **sarcasticfina **over there. If you can't find me, there's a link on my tumblr - also **sarcasticfina**._

_Thank you for reading, please remember to leave a review!_

-** Lee | Fina**


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